Nightlock
by Priestess Luna
Summary: I am the younger sister of Katniss Everdeen, our victor for the 72nd Hunger Games. I am the middle child of three, a mixture of Merchant and Seam. I am Gale's Goldilocks, Lock to those closest to me. I am the forgotten Everdeen sister, willing to do anything for those I love. I am Nightlock. *In the Process of being Rewritten*
1. The Reaping

Disclaimer:_ I do not own Hunger Games and anything from the novels is attributed to its author._

_It starts off with the 72__nd__ Annual Hunger Games when all the characters are younger than when they were first initially introduced in the books. So bear with me as this story evolves, since the writing will reflect the accurate age level and understanding they would have at the time._

_Sorry about the long wait in updates. I wasn't satisfied in the direction this story was going and have decided to rewrite it a bit. I am going through each chapter and thoroughly editing and fixing little problems and mistakes. So do reread the chapters, things won't exactly be the same this time around.  
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**Chapter 1**

**The Reaping**

"Katniss Everdeen."

The woman's voice echoes in the square, reverberating off the walls of the stone buildings. My _mother_'s answering cry upon hearing my sister's name, chills me to the bone. Her heart wrenching, desperate cry of loss seeps deep into the recesses of my mind, solidifying itself within my memories. The sound will haunt my dreams tonight, playing in perfectly with the horrific theme of my nightly terrors. A sound that I haven't heard since the day my father died, all those years ago.

Anger arises within me, as my _mother_ collapses into the arms of Primrose. My precious little sister, too young to take on the role that rightfully belongs to the woman we call _mother_; comforts her as best she can. For the last several years, this woman has made the choice to abandon us to the realities of life. Last summer she chose to return from her latest spell, assuming she can resume her old role without missing a beat. Prim understands the volatile relationship I have with our _mother_, baring witness in the past to our many spats and fights. To my sisters, my anger at her pathetic display might appear justified. Would this reaping send her spiraling back into her next spell if the games didn't? I dread the answer to that question.

Clenching my fists in an effort to relieve some of my anger, my eyes lock on Katniss. Her jaw is tight, the muscles fighting to hide her shock at hearing her name called for the female tribute. My anger gives way to sorrow, realizing my personal feelings towards _mother_ mean nothing, in the weight of the situation. Neither of us thought they would call her name, especially after the precautions we put in place. We chose to limit the number of slips in the reaping bowl, each of us taking the bare minimum to support our family. Her name is entered nine times, while I have six slips in the bowl. We are naive to believe we can cheat fate.

Katniss is walking through the square now, passing the roped off sections sorted by age. Pushing back my tears, I run to the edge of my section, nearly knocking over a classmate in my path. Being kind to others is not a high priority of mine ,when my sister is walking to her executioner. I reach the rope panting just as my sister passes, a grim but determined look in her eyes. I can't let her do it. I reach out for her, calling her name desperately. "Katniss! Katniss!"

Her eyes lock with mine for a minute before she continues on. The slight frown she casts my way, reminds me I did exactly what she didn't want me to do. I am acting on my suicidal thoughts, not thinking my decision through. Giving my life up. I suddenly collapse in my section upon this realization, knowing she won't let me do it. She won't let me throw away my life for her, when she can protect me instead. Tears run down my cheeks, the blood draining from my face at the fearsome sight my sister makes. I can clearly see the fear in her eyes, her bottom lip trembling as she holds back the tears. The message she wants me to get is clear. Take care of our family. Don't do anything stupid. Live.

The flanking Peacekeeper gives me a vicious glare, not liking how I interrupted the reaping. I resist the urge to scream at him as he walks past me. How can he be so uncaring towards my feelings? He doesn't have to watch his sister give up everything for the simple reason to protect me, even though my death would make everyone's lives easier. I stay where I am, watching my sister ascend the steps slowly through my tears. The capitol woman gives Katniss a vibrant smile, making me hate her. How can she be happy about ripping my sister away from us? I despairingly believe it should have been me.

I turn my head away, my glassy eyes catching Gale's in the boy's section. He gives me an unsteady smile, making me understand this is hard for him to see. A regretful smile crosses my lips, realizing how little I know about him. Although my interactions with him up to this point are limited, Gale has become a constant fixture in our lives. Would he still be around if Katniss never returns from the capitol? I clench my fists, my whole body shaking in brewing anger at the injustice of it all.

"I give you, Katniss Everdeen." Her peppy voice echoes the square again, gaining a few claps from the older residents.

A growl escapes my lips, scaring the unsuspecting girl standing next to me. Let her be scared. I am not in the right mind to coddle anyone now. Not when I should be the one throwing my life away to protect Katniss. Why won't she let me protect her? I turn back to look at my sister, hating how she has to put on a brave front for the masses. The capitol woman pushes her to the side, making her stand next to one of the peacekeepers. It is the one that had reprimanded me with his glare. I hate the capitol woman, Effie Trinket, even more.

"And now for the boy's side."

I climb unsteadily to my feet and watch Effie Trinket walk across the stage towards another bowl, her pink hair making me nauseous. She dips her hand in and grabs a slip, making me hold my breath in fear. It would kill me if she called Gale too, our last link to Katniss. Her colorful outfit reminds me of a peacock, an ill-fitting combination with her pink hair. I watch her walk to the center of the stage, standing behind the microphone. She reads the name, smiling as it escapes from her lips. I cross my fingers and hold my breath, my heart racing from the anxiety of it all.

"Rome Cornar."

The breath I am holding escapes me, the dread of hearing Gale's name slowly ebbs. I watch a red-haired boy walk towards the stage, fear clearly seen on his face. Sorrow floods through me as he walks past my section. I feel sorry for him, knowing it must be hard to be singled out like that. I don't recognize him from my class, making him twelve. I tremble in fear, not able to get over the fact I am only a year older than him. That I should be up there with him instead of Katniss.

Rome reaches the stage, where Effie ushers him forward. Katniss is called over to meet her fellow tribute, much to her displeasure I can tell. Effie makes them shake hands, much to my disgust. Katniss has always done everything she can to protect us. Her denying me the right to volunteer proving this. I watch as they greet each other, biting my lip in apprehension. Why would now be any different?

"I give you your tributes for the 72nd Annual Hunger Games!"

The crowd slowly claps, making me glare viciously at the capitol woman. This is all Effie Trinket's fault. I force myself to look away, not able to take this circus anymore. Before anyone can stop me, I step under the rope and run towards my family. My _mother_ is still collapsed in Prim's arms crying. My gaze settles on Prim as I slow to a stop. Her red rimmed eyes haunt me, making me wish I had fought harder to take our sister's place. Prim should never have had to experience this. It should have been me. I am the unwanted sister in our _mother's_ eyes. She has made that abundantly clear all my life.

I kneel, pulling Prim forcibly into my arms and away from my _mother_. _Mother_ doesn't need me now. Prim does. I hear her choked cries muffled by my blouse, making it hard for me not to join her, my tears threatening to spill again. I cradle her gently in my arms, protecting her from the crowd's stares, with my shaking form. Although I usually am the one needing comfort, I try my best to comfort Prim through my fear. I kiss her hair affectionately, knowing this is destroying my little sister. Damn Katniss for being so noble.

I catch sight of my _mother_ still collapsed where I left her. _Mother_'s tear stricken face meets mine, her whole body shaking with her sobs. I tighten my grip on Prim, which only increases the sound of her choked sobs. Why is she just sitting there? Can't she see we need her? Can't she tell Prim needs her desperately, right now?

"Nightlock…" Her trembling whisper reaches my ears, making my eyes narrow in anger. Don't tell me I am the strong one, that she is giving up. I study her, realizing that is exactly what she is doing. She is falling back into the only role she knows, the irresponsible _mother_. I see red as she looks desolately at me. Throughout my entire childhood, it has been father and Katniss who raised me, loved me, cared for me. You would think her unkindness at giving me my name would be the end of her spite towards me. I guess old habits die-hard when you blame your own child for the hardships of your family. This woman has never done anything for me my entire life, and the one time Prim needs her, she abandons us.

I open my mouth to yell at her, choosing to fight back for once. A hand on my shoulder stops me before I can let her know how disgusted I am with her. I turn, catching grey eyes studying my own teary grey. It's Gale. I smile hesitantly up at him, knowing he is barely holding it together as well. Gale doesn't know the little family secret. He doesn't know the events that lead to my birth and my _mother's_ growing hatred towards me. A hatred that has only grown over the last several years, with my own reckless actions. What a sight Prim and I must make, the children the strong ones, while the parent needs the coddling.

"Come on, Goldilocks. Katniss is waiting for us."

It is then that I remember they allow us to say goodbye before she leaves. Goodbye to my older sister who provides for us, who protects us, who will die for us. I begin to tremble again, sorrow threatening to overcome my weak control. I am the unpredictable one, the little bitter family secret who only ever thinks of herself. How does Katniss expect me to fill her shoes when I can barely fill my own? Strong arms grip me and steady me as I stand, Prim still clutched to my side.

The next few moments are a blur of people and words, Prim still wrapped in my arms. The fog begins to lift when Prim struggles in my arms. I release her quickly, watching as she runs into the waiting arms of our sister, Katniss. Jealousy floods me as I watch the two of them embrace. I would give anything to have the kind of relationship those two have. Katniss and I will never be as close. My vision swims with unshed tears as I fight down the jealousy that threatens to consume me. Why do I always feel like the outsider looking in?

I struggle to stay standing, Gale catching me as I trip in my desperation to reach my sisters. Overwhelming fear begins to take hold of me, my entire body shaking with the reality that I must face. Katniss is leaving us, heading towards the capitol as part of the Hunger Games. How will our family survive? Will I be able to protect Prim? This is just too much. Tears start to fall as I watch Prim sob in Kat's arms. "Kit-Kat…" My words sound gargled, almost indistinguishable to my own ears.

Katniss looks at me, a sad expression on her face. "Nightlock…" She whispers, reaching out towards me. This is the last straw. I run into her arms full force, the tears flowing with no end in sight. I grip her yellow dress tightly in my hands, wrapping one of my arms around the still sobbing Prim. She can't leave us. I need her. Prim needs her.

"Please don't go, Katniss." I murmur, burying my head in the dress that I am ruining with my tears. How can our family survive without her holding us together? I am barely 13, not a child or an adult either. I don't know how to be the responsible one. A choking sob escapes me as I cling to my sister. To be in charge of protecting Prim seems like an impossible task when I can barely protect myself from our _mother_.

"I have to, Lock. If I had a choice, I would stay." She exclaims calmly, gripping my arms and pushing me away from her. I look up into her determined eyes through glassy tears, knowing whatever she has to say to me is important. "Take care of them, Nightlock. Don't let mother abandon her again. You have to keep it together. I need you strong for them. For Prim." Kit-Kat states, looking sternly as me as I nod my head slowly, not having the strength to comment. I have no argument for her words. "You can't let your emotions rule you. Suppress them, be the strong sister that Prim needs. Don't let mother get to you." Easier to say then do. _Mother_ always has a talent for putting me down I think bitterly.

Katniss pulls me back into a hug, burying her face in my hair, mumbling, "Don't you dare let them starve, Lock. Gale will teach you." I nod again in response, unable to form any words. The idea that she wants me to fight back against _mother_ weighs heavily on me. I am always trying to stay in the shadows, not rile her up with my antics. I shake as I realize that taking over Katniss's role as the provider and protector is doing the exact opposite. Will I be able to pull it off? Sorrow has my throat constricted as I hear the doors open and the peacekeepers' voices telling us it is time to leave.

I let go of my sister, reaching for Prim as I feel my _mother_ grab me roughly from behind. Prim is screaming at this point, trying desperately to stay attached to Katniss. I swallow a sob, knowing I have to become the sister Prim needs. I have to step out of the shadows and into the limelight._ Mother's_ nails dig into my skin, reminding me that our relationship is about to change drastically. I grip Prim's arm and pull her hard before the peacekeepers reach her. I hear Katniss's last words as they usher us out the doors, Prim clutched tightly in my arms as my heart beats frantically.

"I promise, Prim. I will win."

**Updated 6/30/13**


	2. The Interview

_Since the entire story is now in rewrite, I am slowly going through each chapter to fix any mistakes or messes to the plot. Now on with the story!_

**Chapter 2:**

**The Interview**

"Nightlock! Her interview is starting."

I clench my fists in anger, hoping Primrose can't see the agony on my face. The thought of watching the capitol parade Katniss in front of the masses, makes me ill. I stare into the mirror Primrose can't help but polish every morning. It's a remnant during the time when our father was once alive. My heart clenches, remembering the man who was once my entire world. The soot covering his face, when he would come home from the mines, always with a smile. The way he would sing and dance around, with me in his arms. The only parent to ever love me unconditionally. Before being snatched from me at the age of ten.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, hardened grey Seam eyes with the blonde merchant hair. I am a joke here at the Seam, not quite part of either class. _Mother_ does nothing to shield me from the ridicule and hate surrounding me. Instead, she joins in to put me in my place. Any hope for affection on her part is a naïve dream. Long forgotten pain grips me, remembering a child's hope for her _mother_'s affection. Something my sisters are lucky to have.

_Mother_ loves to tell me just how perfect my sisters are. Katniss with the dark brown hair and grey eyes of the Seam, a beautiful reminder of Father. Primrose with her blonde hair and blue eyes, a small copy of our _mother_. I am the mutt, a mixing of both worlds. _Mother_ would remind me daily that I look nothing like her. She tells me that I am a child that only my father could love. Sadly, father is no longer here to defend me, to protect me. Neither is my older sister, Katniss.

Shutting my eyes tightly, I push away these sad thoughts. This is not the time for self-pity. Katniss needs me strong, to hold our family together in her absence. I turn, putting on my best smile for Prim. The last thing I need is Prim worrying about two sisters instead of one. I must stay positive for Prim. I take her hand in mine, looking down at my innocent little sister. She is the age I was when father died.

My body begins to slowly tremble, knowing it would destroy Prim to see Katniss die in these games. I silently plea to Katniss to win these games, to not leave us like father. To fulfill her promise to win for Prim. I settle shakily into my wooden chair next to the screen, just in time for Prim to climb into my lap. Wrapping my arms around her small frame, I realize how tiny she is for her age. Although Katniss does her best to provide for us, it has never been enough in her eyes. I lay my chin on top of her head, cuddling my precious little sister close to hide my tears. My attention focuses on the screen in front of us, Katniss walking across the stage.

She looks beautiful. The deep red color complimenting her olive skin tone. I smile despite my tears, thankful she is at least being taken care of in the capitol. I listen to Caesar's questions, knowing they are geared to portray the tribute in a favorable light. The image they are trying to portray for her is Katniss Everdeen, the dark-haired darling from District 12. It is his next question, that causes my heart to skip a beat.

"Now Katniss, who is the girl at your reaping trying to get your attention?" His question seems innocent enough, despite the gnawing fear gripping me. Katniss could either answer it with the truth or a lie. Would she try to protect us from the capitol's attention? By her determined facial expression, I know Katniss will choose to tell the truth.

"That is my sister, Nightlock." She gives him a small smile, trying to appear innocent. I can tell by the fists clenching her dress that she isn't happy with this line of questioning.

"Ahh! I see she is also in the reaping pool. How old is Nightlock?" Why is he drawing attention towards me with his questions?

"Lock is thirteen." Katniss is keeping her answers short, which might prove disastrous for her if history is any indication. I bite my lip, not liking nor understanding where Caesar is going with this.

"Is Nightlock your only sister? I saw her run to another girl and a woman in the crowd after your fellow tribute, Rome, took the stage." This proves he is steering the crowd's attention towards us. What could be the purpose of this?

Katniss is fighting hard to keep the smile on her face. Her protective nature towards us is strong, which is what they might be trying to focus on. "No, Caesar. She is running towards our youngest sister, Primrose, who is too young for the reaping. She is standing with our mother." Katniss looks like she wants to yell at him for bringing us up.

Caesar is smiling at this, which makes me wary of him. What is he trying to do? "Now our time is almost up. I have two more questions for you Katniss. Why is Nightlock trying to get your attention? Is she trying to ask you something?"

Katniss's calm composure slips at this. Her voice is soft as she replies to his question. "My sister and I made a pact before the reaping. She would offer to take my place if I wish. I knew the minute my name was called that Nightlock would volunteer if I didn't stop her. I couldn't let my little sister do that." Tears are in her eyes at this point, her head bowed. Her body language unreadable to those who don't know her as well as we do.

I watch as the camera shifts to the audience, where there is not a dry eye in the house. Is Caesar trying to help us bring Katniss home? He is giving her the image of the protective older sister, willing to do anything for her younger siblings. This fits our Kit-Kat perfectly.

"Well Katniss, I believe we all can say you are a brave girl for your young age. I wish you all the best in these Hunger Games. I know your sisters will be cheering for you back home." He stands, reaching out his hand to shake hers.

Katniss nods, a watery smile on her face. "Thank you Caesar." They shake hands as Caesar yells to the audience, "Katniss Everdeen, everyone!" She leaves the stage at this point, returning to her seat in the front row with the other tributes.

I smile, despite my heart beating rapidly. Katniss is amazing. She is slowly winning over the crowd with Caesar's help. I hug Prim tightly to me, hearing her delightful giggle at my actions. She has a fighting chance in these games. We can only help that it will be enough to help her win.

"Is she going to win, Lock? Is Katniss going to win?"

I give Primrose my most endearing smile, hoping my words will put her at ease. "She is going to try Prim. She is going to try." I clutch her tightly to me, burying my face in her hair, as she hums to herself. I can't let my little sister see my tears, the dreaded agony that is ripping me apart from the inside out. Will Katniss be able to win the Hunger Games? And if she does, will we get the same Katniss we know and love back?

Only the 72nd Annual Hunger Games can tell us that.

**Updated 6/30/13**


	3. The 72nd Annual Hunger Games Part 1

_Sorry it is taking so long to update this. I have several other stories I am writing and am keeping up with those.  
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**Chapter 3:**

**The 72****nd**** Annual Hunger Games**

**Part 1**

I don't remember much about the first day.

_Mother_ and Prim were stuck in front of the screen as each tribute was launched into the arena. They surrounded the Cornucopia in a semi-circle, poised and ready to dash for supplies. I noticed two sets of bows and arrows in the opening, gold in color with solid types. I bit my lip, hoping Katniss noticed them as well. I tried to spot her among the tributes, dressed in almost a hunter's type of outfit in dark gray.

The arena this year was a series of mountains and cliffs, with a forest in the middle. The only water source seemed to be a stream that cut through the arena with a waterfall found nearest to the steepest cliffs. The height of some of those cliffs scared me, knowing if Katniss fell from any of them, she would die. My sister was at home in the woods and good with a bow. I only hope that would be enough for her to survive.

The countdown had started, my heart constricting with worry for my older sister. I close my eyes, knowing that it is against the rules not to watch the opening of the games. I didn't want to see the upcoming bloodbath, kids my age and older slaughtering each other like animals. And for what? Glory? Wealth? Victory? Don't make me laugh. Our last victor from District 12 is a regular visitor to the Hob and I haven't seen him sober since I was four.

I hear Prim cheer and force my eyes open, knowing I have to make sure Katniss makes it away. The images become a blur of red and gray, screams of dying children reaching my ears. I cover my mouth as I watch our district male tribute die at the hands of what we call the Careers, blade to the throat. "Oh no…" The words escape my lips before I can stop them, making me glance worriedly at Primrose. She didn't seem to notice.

_Mother_ is staring blankly at the screen, a horrified expression overtaking her slowly. I immediately squash down the glee that floods through me. Is it horrible that I wish pain and suffering on the woman that abandoned Prim and I again at the reaping? I will never forget the look in her eyes, pleading for me to comfort her while I held Prim to me. Only after Katniss left did I realize that she was no longer our _mother_, only the woman who gave birth to us. Katniss has been my mother since I was ten and Prim seven.

A cannon shot brings my attention back to the screen, seeing the children's bodies littering the grassy clearing. I swallow slowly, studying each face they show that appears on the screen. Nine of the twenty-four tributes were killed in the beginning bloodbath. One of these tributes was the male tribute from District 12. Relief floods me upon realizing Katniss is still alive. She made it out in time. I watch as her face is shown, running through the forest away from the battle. A bow and arrows in her arms along with an orange backpack. I fall back into my chair, relief flooding through me. "She did it. Kit-Kat really did it."

Prim launches herself into my arms, catching me by surprise. I laugh, hugging the little blonde missile to me. I study her face, happiness radiating off of her. People always told_ Mother_ how we could be twins if not for the age gap. The only real difference between us was our eyes. Our eyes told everyone who we were. Primrose was the blonde haired darling of the Seam. I didn't know anyone who didn't like Prim. How could you not like a child so pure of heart like Prim?

On the other hand, I was the forgotten Everdeen sister. Katniss was the hunter, the provider for the family. Primrose, the darling of the family, the innocent child you can't help but want to protect. I didn't fit into this family. I wasn't as good at hunting as Katniss or well-liked like Primrose. I was good at cooking, skinning, preparing meat. I had decent aim with a bow and almost deadly accuracy with a throwing knife. I had decent knowledge in healing but nothing special. I was for all purposes, ordinary.

"Is she going to win, Lock?"

Prim's question brings me back to reality, making me realize she has been waiting for my response. I smile reassuringly, knowing I can't let Prim know about my doubts. "She has a good shot, Prim. Katniss knows how to survive, so she has an advantage over the others. And she got a score of 9. That tells you she impressed the sponsors." I try not to let my fear show, knowing that she might have a good shot at the sponsors if her mentor has actually tried to help her.

"I guess so…"

Prim looks disheartened at my lack of enthusiasm, which worries me. I brush a few hair strands out of her face, trying my best to sound positive in my words. "Prim, I promise you. Katniss is going to try everything she can to come back to us." I hug her tightly, whispering the last bit in her ear. "Remember Prim. She promised you. She will win." I lean back, smiling at my little sister.

Prim's happy smile lightens my heart. I watch as she nods her head, skipping off my lap to go talk to _mother_. I watch Buttercup jump on the table, meowing cutely at her. I shake my head, knowing how much Katniss hates that cat. Luckily for me, Buttercup and I had reached an understanding. Buttercup doesn't bother me when I'm cooking while I allow Prim to have his undivided attention whenever he wants. It's a deal we can both live with.

I excuse myself quietly, walking out of the door of our dwelling. I catch sight of others taking a break from the games, knowing they must be discussing Rome's death. I quickly turn away from them all, not wanting to talk about my family's luck with Katniss still being alive. It was unfair that only one tribute could win, letting the rest of the families mourn for the loss of their loved ones.

I quickly walk down the street, taking shortcuts down alley ways and in between businesses. My feet hasten whenever I hear voices near me, not wishing to encounter anyone at the moment. I catch sight of Gale as I pass by the Hob, knowing he must have just brought game in from beyond the fence. I nod in his direction before running past him, hoping to reach the square before too many people leave back to their houses.

I catch sight of the square where the reaping took place, knowing this is where I will most likely find him at this hour. If he wasn't here, then the bakery was the next best bet. I scan the depleting crowds for his blonde hair, hoping to catch him before I left. I know how he feels about my sister. It is hard not to notice when I constantly catch him staring at her in school, on the street, in the square. I want to make sure he knows Katniss is still alive.

My eyes catch his bright blues, his kind smile melting my heart. I run over to where he stands, my hair a chaotic mess from being outside. He is the only one besides Gale that recognized my existence, separate to my sisters. I am not just an Everdeen sister to him. I am Nightlock, the younger sister of the girl he loves.

I reach him within moments, taking in his tall form close up. At 5'11, he was tall for a boy his age. Peeta Mellark is fourteen years old, the same age as Katniss. Only a year older than me, Peeta towers over my short stature of 5'2. I barely reach the middle of his chest, looking like a small child standing next to him. "Hey Peeta." My voice sounds squeaky to even my ears, making me blush in embarrassment.

"Hi, Nightlock."

His smile is dazzling to me. My heart skips a beat at hearing my name on his lips. If only he would notice me instead of Katniss. I know he only has eyes for my sister and I would never do anything to hurt her. Katniss is very secretive about her feelings, not even letting her family know about them. I am unsure on how she feels about Peeta. "Did you see in the games? Katniss is alive! She survived the bloodbath." I try to sound overly enthusiastic, failing miserably.

"I saw. She did very well in getting the bow and arrows. Your family must be so relieved." His smile softens, his gaze focusing on something in the distance. He looks at peace, almost as if a heavy burden has been lifted from him.

My heart constricts at the sight of his calm mask. I force out a happy "Yeah," even though my heart is breaking. I bow my head, hiding the tears that threaten to fall. How can I compete with that? There is only room for one person in Peeta Mellark's heart. That is my sister, Katniss Everdeen.

**Updated 6/13/15**


	4. The 72nd Annual Hunger Games Part 2

_Thank you for your support with this. It has been a while since I updated but I am back now. I plan on updating the rest of the chapters that need it before continuing on with the story. I am going to switch a few things around, make it a little more unique. Hopefully you all won't hate me for these changes. Please continue to review and let me know what you think.  
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**Chapter 4:**

**The 72****nd**** Annual Hunger Games**

**Part 2**

**Day 4**

"Katniss!"

Prim's scream shook me to the core, rousing me from my deep sleep within seconds. I sit up, whipping around to shake her shoulders. "Prim. Prim. It's a dream. Prim!" My pleas awaken her, tears streaking her cheeks as I pull her to me. She sobs into my nightgown, muffled screams escaping her every few minutes. I whisper to her, trying to comfort her to the best of my ability, "It's ok, Prim. It was just a dream. Dreams can't hurt us Prim. It's ok, Prim."

Like a broken record, I repeat the same mantra, trying my best to reassure my little sister. Unlike Katniss, who can soothe Prim with just a few words, I am hopeless at it. Comforting my sister from nightmares, is not a strength I possess. I am horrible with words, much like my older sister, except Katniss can force the words out when it matters most. My case is completely different, constantly fumbling over them and making a fool of myself without even trying. Just like I must be doing right now.

"Nightlock…"

I pull back from Primrose's tight embrace, looking down into her red rimmed eyes and watery smile. "Yes, Prim?" I try to keep my voice quiet, not wishing to awaken _Mother_. The last thing I wish to deal with is her attitude towards me. She has been vigilantly watching the games from dawn to dusk, sleep depriving herself without a care towards Prim. My loathing of her lack of care towards Prim has caused our already rocky relationship to become strained. She has done nothing to help us cook, clean, or put food on the table. I have been spending my nights hunting with Gale, the only time both of us could get away. To say that I am furious with her, is sugar coating it.

"Do you think Katniss is ok?"

Her question catches me by surprise. "What do you mean Prim? Was that what your dream was about? Did Katniss get hurt in it?" She nods her head in answer to my question, making me chew my lip in worry. How did Prim find out about the rockslide? I made sure she was distracted at the time when it came on screen. It would have destroyed her to watch Katniss be buried alive beneath all those rocks. I lick my lips before whispering, "What was the dream about, Prim?"

Prim whimpers, hiding her head in my nightgown. I smooth down her hair, waiting patiently for her answer. "She was running from people, trying to get away. Then there was a loud noise. She was buried Lock! She was buried beneath all those rocks…" She mumbles, refusing to look at me.

I hug her tightly, biting my lip to keep my gasp from being heard. Oh god, she saw it. She saw what happened to Katniss on the screen. Everything I did to try to protect her had failed. I failed to protect her. Oh Katniss, I'm sorry. I failed you. I force my voice to remain steady as I reply, "It's just a dream, Prim." I rest my chin on her head, whispering the last bit. "Kit-Kat is a fighter. She is fine. No rocks can keep our Katniss down."

**Day 7**

I glare at Gale, knowing he is just being a jerk at this point. "They meant nothing by it. Just ignore Caesar. It is a risk that every tribute takes in the games." I state, lying without blinking an eye. If it will shut Gale up about the assault we saw on the screen earlier that day, I will be happy.

"Goldilocks, I am telling you. They have it in for her." He looks frustrated, as if trying to find the right words to express his feelings. "After the careers finding her by the cliffs, chasing her down like prey. Then the rockslide, nearly burying her alive. How can you defend them!" Gale yells and throws down the knife he had been twirling in his hands, nearly missing my foot in the process.

"I'm not defending them!" I call out while standing, accidently dropping the rabbit I had been skinning on the blood matted fur pile below it. "If you happen to forget, Katniss can take care of herself. She shot the Trackerjack nest through the hole in the rocks, killing the District 1 girl Flicker and District 2 boy Cole. Then she managed to survive the hallucinations from the stray Trackerjackers, while scaling a tree through the tiny rear entrance of the cave she was trapped in." I reply before reaching down to grab the rabbit I had dropped, not wanting to let the meat go to waste.

Gale grabs my arm, preventing me from reaching the rabbit. He grips my arm tightly, holding it above my head and forcing me to look at him. "Don't forget, Nightlock. She had help both times. If it weren't for that District 11 girl Rue, she would never have seen the Trackerjacker nest above the sleeping careers or know about the rear exit of the cave." He explains calmly before releasing my arm. He leans against a tree, studying me and waiting to see my reaction.

I rub my arm, grabbing the bow and arrows lying next to the half-skinned rabbit. I notch the arrow and pull back the string before he can stop me. I train it on his heart, glaring at him viciously before threatening, "Don't forget Gale, I am Katniss's sister. If you ever manhandle me like that again, I will kill you." How dare he touch me! I will not let him use me to take his frustration out on.

My reaction seems to surprise him, as if he didn't suspect that I would fight back. "Now, Goldilocks. Put that down." He asks and gives me a friendly smile, trying his best to look harmless. He puts his arms up in the air, showing he had no weapons on him. "Remember we are friends. Katniss did make me promise to teach you how to hunt."

I frown, knowing he is correct on this assumption. Still, I have no desire to drop my weapon. With one last glare in his direction, I change my aim and let the arrow loose. A loud "thwack!" reaches my ears as it buries itself in the bark of the tree to his left. A warning shot should do it. Nodding in satisfaction, I put down my bow, ignoring Gale's look of disbelief. I sit back on the log, grabbing the half skinned rabbit and continue my task from before.

"You missed me, Lock!" I ignore him as he continues, angry at myself for my immature behavior. "If I didn't know better, I would say you did that on purpose." Out of the corner of my eye, I see him return the arrow to the container to my right. I am thankful he had the decency to return it. "I'm impressed, Goldilocks. Your aim has improved."

I smirk, still refusing to look up at him as I whisper, "Who says I missed?"

**Day 11**

The news is all over the Hob. I have just come back from the bakery from selling Mr. Mellark two squirrels for a loaf of their cheapest bread. I believe he got the better end of the deal, but who am I to judge. I take what I can get to feed us. I did promise Katniss I wouldn't let the family starve. I believe I have succeeded without too much difficulty. With help from Gale, of course.

Capitol reporters are lurking around the area, looking for anyone to interview about Katniss Everdeen. Katniss has reached the final eight, along with the girl from District 11 and the remaining two careers from District 1 and 2. Thankfully, I have kept them away from Primrose for the most part. They caught us by surprise on the first day, getting a few words out of Prim. I told them we had to get back to work, closing the door in their face. I suspect they knew I was lying.

If anyone liked me before the reaping, they definitely didn't like me now. I am developing quite a bad image with the press, snapping at them anytime they come near me or Prim. I am very defensive of my family, especially from any people from the capitol. I don't like that they want the dirt on Katniss. I know it would be better for Katniss if we cooperate but I can't stand the reporters. Every time I see one, I have to resist the urge to hit them or threaten them with bodily harm. They seem like such weak creatures.

On the other hand, Gale is eating the attention up. Not! I think he is more annoyed then me about the reporters questioning him. The running joke among District 12 is that Gale is our cousin. I know Katniss and Gale look alike with their Seam looks, but come on. All you have to do is watch Gale watching the screen and know he has feelings beyond brotherly affection for Katniss. I have noticed this when out hunting with him. I catch him a few times referring to me as Katniss, but I am kind enough not to correct him.

As I dart over to the door hoping to make a quick exit, I catch sight of Gale cornered by reporters. I sigh, noticing him looking around frantically for someone to pin the pests on. I glare at him, daring him to even try to pin them on me. He knows how I feel about the capitol buzzards. He gives me an apologizing smile, though I can tell he doesn't feel sorry at all for what he is about to do.

"If you have any more questions, feel free to ask Katniss's sister, Nightlock Everdeen." He states and points in my general direction, much to my dismay.

That jerk! I am so getting him for this next time we go hunting. I try to hide in the shadows, hoping they won't notice me. I am sadly mistaken. Within minutes, I am surrounded by a rainbow sea of capitol reporters, all shouting out questions to me. I clench my fists, resisting the urge to scream at them. For the first time since they came here, I decide to play nice. Wonder how long that is going to last?

"Nightlock! Nightlock! How do you feel about your sister making the final eight?" A woman with a green mop for hair and whiskers looks at me inquisitively.

"I'm ecstatic that Katniss is doing so well. I know everyone in 12 is cheering for her to win." I state and plaster a happy smile on my face, despite wanting to punch the whiskered woman.

"Nightlock, how do you feel about your sister's alliance with the District 11 tribute Rue?" This time a man with flaming orange hair with red freckles speaks, holding a microphone to my face. He hits my nose in his earnestness.

I resist the urge to rub my nose as I reply, "I think it greatly benefits both parties. Rue has been a great asset to Katniss and it saddens me that only one of them can win." Hopefully, that will satisfy their questions for a while.

"Nightlock, is it true that you were going to volunteer to take Katniss's place in the games?" It's the whiskered woman again who speaks.

Why did they have to ask that question? I force my lips to maintain the smile while I answer her, "Yes. Katniss and I made a pact to volunteer for each other if we were chosen." I lick my lips, choosing my next words carefully. "I was going to volunteer as she was walking up but Katniss told me not to." I didn't say how I knew this.

"Oh how brave! You two must be so close!" It's a woman with brighter pink hair then the reaping woman who states this. She looks ready to burst with joy, for a reason I can't even begin to comprehend.

Dear god, were all capitol residents this weird or just stupid? I nod, not wishing to add to this statement. Let them believe what they wish. If this helps Katniss gain more sponsors in order to survive the games, I will let them spin whatever tales they wish.

"Ms. Everdeen, Katniss has killed three people already in these Hunger Games. The girl from District 1 Flicker, the boy from District 2 Cole, and the boy from District 7. She killed the first two with the Trackerjacker nest and the other when destroying the remaining careers food stockpile with one of her arrows and some mines. How do you feel about this?" A blue haired man waits patiently for me to answer, gold swirls lining every part of his face.

I contain my horrified expression at his question. How can someone ask such a question? I might not be happy that these games are forcing Katniss to kill others but she has a good reason for it. It is either kill or be killed. Katniss knows her survival is paramount if she wants to return home to us. I swallow, making sure to speak slowly so my words aren't misinterpreted. "It is the Hunger Games. Many believe that it is either to kill or be killed. All I can ask of Katniss is to survive. Survive and come home to us."

I smile sadly, not caring if they have any more questions. I push through the crowd of reporters, exiting the Hob before they can stop me. Damn you Gale.

**Day 12**

My interview is being plastered all over the screen during the downtime of the Games. Apparently, I made Katniss and myself very popular with my brief words. I could care less what those idiotic capitol reporters think of me. As long as it helps Katniss in some way, I would do it again. Well, maybe not. If Gale hadn't pawned them off on me, I probably wouldn't have ever talked to the sea of capitol idiots.

On the screen at the moment was Katniss, cutting flowers from wherever she found them. She was cutting them for Rue. The district 11 tribute had been captured by the remaining careers and shot through the stomach with a javelin, I believe, while Katniss was off hunting. Katniss had held her as she died, singing to Rue in her final moments.

I cried when I realized what song she was singing. I had heard it many times in my childhood. Father would sing it to us before we went to sleep. I remember _Mother_ mentioning it during one of her more lucid and welcoming stages towards me. She talked about how the Mockingjays would quiet whenever Father would sing, listening in to his voice as if to catch the melody perfectly. Katniss has the same effect on them when she sings, whether she realizes it or not. I have never tried, thinking it is something sacred to be shared between Father and Katniss.

She finishes placing the flowers around Rue, giving me enough time to compose myself. Prim and _Mother_ were at the square at the moment watching. They had gone out to sell some of Prim's goat Lady's cheese for food or money. I remember when Katniss brought the goat home for Prim. It was for her tenth birthday that Katniss had carried home a half-dead goat with an infected wound for Prim. I knew she had gotten the better end of the trade if the goat survived. Prim had hugged her and named the goat Lady. With _Mother_'s helping hand, Lady made a full recovery and is now one of Primrose's most prized possessions along with Buttercup.

Speaking of Buttercup, I hear a hiss near the door. Mangy cat. Probably saw Katniss on the screen and decided to let me know his opinion about her. I roll my eyes, knowing it was hopeless to get Buttercup to like Kit-Kat. The hatred between them was mutual. I look in the direction of the door, noticing two cat eyes studying me warily. "Prim isn't here, you silly cat. " He meows cutely at hearing Prim's name, making me laugh. "You mangy cat. No wonder Katniss always threatens to cook you." I receive a hiss and tail flick in response.

I glance back at the screen, noticing Katniss has walked away from Rue. She turns, looking up at the camera focusing in on her. I am unsure whether she knows it is there or not. She holds three fingers up, giving the District 12 sign for Goodbye. It is the goodbye we use for loved ones. I last saw it done on the day of my father's death. I gasp, not believing that Katniss could be so stupid. Does she realize what she has done?

**Day 15**

There are only two tributes left.

Katniss is standing at the edge of the highest cliff, the boy from District 1 glowering at her. His face is dirty, covered in mud and blood from a blow to the head. Katniss is favoring her uninjured leg, hobbling to keep balance after her nasty fall from the day before.

I clutch Prim's hand, whose eyes seem glued to the screen. I gasp, realizing this is it. Only one of them can win. It is up to Katniss now.

"Any last words District 12?" His tone is cocky, despite the pain we can hear in his voice. I realize he must be in a great deal of pain from the wound the other career had given him before he killed her. I don't feel sorry for him at all.

Katniss doesn't reply, instead seeming to take in all the scenery around her. What is she doing? Doesn't she see that this is the end. She has to focus!

He grips the knife in his hand, smirking. "Goodbye District 12!" He runs at her, clutching the knife tightly in his right hand. He goes to swipe at her throat, a crazy glint in his eyes.

Katniss ducks, almost losing her balance in the process. She steps away from the edge, trying to maneuver herself away from the blade. The boy has gotten cocky and rushes her, tripping over a rock and falling on top of her. They struggle, the boy trying to cut her while Katniss tries to get the blade away from him.

My heart is in my throat, my body frozen in fear as I yell, "Come on Katniss. You can do this!" It feels like years have passed as I watch them struggle. There is a cry of pain and then silence. The boom of a cannon cuts through the silence. Oh god. Is Katniss alive?

I watch Katniss push the boy's body off of her, rolling the body over for all to see. The knife had pierced straight through his heart. She sits up breathing hard, staring blankly into the distance. The announcer's voice can be heard in the background. "I give you Katniss Everdeen! Victor of the 72nd Annual Hunger Games!"

"She did it!" Prim's shout makes me smile. Yes, Katniss did do it but at what cost?

**Updated 6/14/15  
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	5. The Return

_I'm so happy people are enjoying this story as much as I am enjoying writing it. Sorry for the delay. Finals week is approaching soon, so I've been swamped with books. Now here comes the hard part for me. I apologize for the short chapter but I promise a longer chapter next time. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 5:**

**The Return**

The crowning was one of the most painful things I had to watch. Katniss didn't smile, laugh, or acknowledge anything that was happening to her. It was like my sister was a puppet for the capitol. A ready pawn for them to play with that already had the crowd's devotion. She was beautiful though. All dolled up with the golden crown on her head as she waved to the capitol. That girl was not my sister. Where did my Kit-Kat go?

I couldn't watch the ongoing celebrations. The end of games interview with the recap turned my stomach. The crowning left me sick. The well-wishing from the people of the capitol was hard to comprehend. They cheered for her to murder, to end the lives of others. Then congratulate her on a job well done, showering her with riches and praise. How could Katniss stand it? I would have hidden away long ago, not wanting anything else to do with the capitol's wishes. Why did she give in so easily to their demands?

It was two days later when she returned, coming off the train to the cheers of District 12. I spotted Peeta in the crowd, standing next to his parents and brothers. I knew he was happier than most about her return. I wished him luck in winning her heart, even if my own shattered at the prospect. Katniss needed goodness in her life after these games. If Peeta could give it to her, I would do everything in my power to help him win her affections.

I turn to hear Prim shouting and waving her hands frantically, trying to get Katniss's attention. I laugh at Prim's antics, wondering how she could maintain her childlike enthusiasm after all these years. Gale had hoisted her onto his shoulders, allowing Primrose to be easily spotted by Katniss when she looked for us in the crowd. I catch a glimpse of Katniss exiting the train doors, flanked by Haymitch and the pink haired capitol woman. Her lack of expression frightens me. What had happened to cause her to be in such a state?

The cheers from the people around me interrupt my thoughts. The crowd was cheering Katniss's name. I could understand why. She was our first female victor, a celebrity in their eyes. I crane my neck to glance over the shoulders in front of me, finally managing to catch Katniss's attention. She gazes blankly at me, her lack of emotion shaking me to the core. I lick my lips before mouthing one word. Kit-Kat.

That seems to wake her up, a sad smile spreading across her lips at my nickname for her. I nod and dart my eyes to the side, indicating I will head over to the steps of the train platform to meet her. I catch the faintest nod from her as if to say she understood. I smile and wave before grabbing Gale's arm to get his attention.

He turns his head, looking at me questionably. "Goldilocks, whats up?"

I roll my eyes, wondering if he really is that dense at times. "I'm heading over to the steps to meet Katniss. Come on." I tug at his arm before continuing. "Bring Prim. I will get mother." He nods in acknowledgement before placing Prim on the ground. I shake my mother out of her stupor, knowing I will most likely have to drag her through the crowd. She hadn't fully awoken from the catatonic state she had drifted into after Katniss's reaping. I would have felt bad if this had been the first time. It wasn't. She had done this once before when dad died.

Mother just stares at me, almost as if she couldn't quite see me. I resist the urge to yell at her before stating. "Come on. We are going to meet Katniss." I don't wait for a reply as I grab her hand and drag her through the crowd. I push and shove my way to the outer edge of the crowd, spotting Gale and Prim standing near the steps. I wave at them, hoping they can see Mother and me. With one last push, we are free.

I let go of Mother's hand as I rush over to where Prim is waiting impatiently. I trusted Mother to manage to walk the last few steps over to where we are. She wasn't an invalid and I refused to baby her longer than necessary. I was sick of her behavior, the moping around the house and staring off into space. It was a miracle I hadn't hit her yet. I still loved my mother despite my disgust at the state she allowed herself to reach.

I take Prim's hand in mine as I turn to face the steps, knowing the capitol woman had to be done with her welcome speech soon. I roll my eyes at her giggles, wondering how Haymitch could stand being around the pink-haired woman every year. Then again, he was drunk most of the time. I suspected that had something to do with it. I smile as I hear the capitol woman finish her speech, knowing Katniss will be heading over to us shortly.

A true smile graces my face as I catch sight of Katniss at the top of the stairs. I have to restrain Prim from launching herself at Kit-Kat, knowing she would knock over our sister easily. Katniss was wearing a beautiful pink dress with heels, wobbling down the steps in her earnest to get to us. I let go of Prim's hand as Katniss reaches the bottom step, laughing as she still manages to tackle Katniss to the ground with the force of her hug. I can tell Katniss isn't complaining. Her laughter and tears tell me all I need to know. She was happy to see us too.

I walk slowly up to my hugging sisters, my whole body shaking with the urge to join them. Katniss looks up at me through Prim's braids, a happy smile on her face despite the sadness in her eyes. I cover my mouth as my own tears start to fall, recognizing that my sister was no longer able to hide behind her own ignorance. She had grown and matured over the last several weeks in the capitol. Her eyes had been opened to the horrors the capitol made us watch each year and she had attributed to it. My sister's worst fear had come true. She had allowed the capitol to change her.

I launch myself into her arms, burying my head into her shoulder to muffle my own sobs. I feel her hand stroking my hair, her gentle whispers of reassurance making my sobs grow in strength. My whole body shakes in her arms, the pain from my newly found knowledge getting to me. I should be comforting Katniss, not the other way around. I just didn't have the strength to.

Along with the sadness I had seen in her eyes, something else had been there too. Something that frightened me down to the bone, making me fear for my sister's sanity. Her innocence was gone, replaced by a feeling that I had only seen in one other person's eyes. Haymitch had the same look in his eyes as Katniss did now. They had completely lost any remorse for others.

Murder could do that to you.


	6. The Visit

_I felt bad about the shortness of the last chapter and decided to update twice in one day. A little treat for all my loyal readers. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 6:**

**The Visit**

Two weeks have passed since Katniss returned home to us. We had spent that time moving into the Victors Village, located across the district and closer to the Merchants quarters. There was very little that our family needed from our old home in the Seam, a few keepsakes that some of us couldn't part with. Buttercup and Lady were two of them. I know Kit-Kat would have preferred to leave the mangy cat but it would have broken Prim's heart. Katniss never could stand to disappoint Prim. Neither could I.

Prim was beyond excited to have Katniss home. She spoke constantly of the happenings of the Seam and school. Her cheerful nature slowly dragged Katniss out of her sadness, returning her to the sister we all know and love. Prim did everything she could think of to get Katniss's mind off of the Games. She even bravely tried to get Buttercup to allow Katniss to pet him. This didn't quite work, only resulting in scratches on both parties and fur lying everywhere in the living area.

Her enthusiasm towards Katniss was infectious, bringing Mother out of her state quicker than expected. I was in awe at Mother's ability to adapt to any situation, already setting herself up as the homemaker of Katniss's cottage. She tried to cook in the kitchen and tidy the place up, utterly failing at both tasks. I banned her from the kitchen after nearly suffocating us with smoke. Prim tried her best to distract Mother with learning new herbs and healing balms instead of allowing her free reign within the home.

Katniss spent her days strolling throughout District 12, avoiding contact with almost everyone except us and Gale. I had yet to see her go beyond the fence to hunt, which worried me. My sister was drifting apart from us despite Prim's and my best efforts. It seemed like a lost cause to force her to be something she wasn't. Katniss had changed with the Games, becoming someone I scarcely recognized anymore. I feared the day at the train station was a fluke and the girl, no woman, I see now was taking my sister's place.

It was early afternoon when I came home to peacekeepers surrounding the cottage. I didn't recognize any of them as I passed through the entrance to the Victors Village. I was scrutinized, studied, and even winked at as I made my way to Katniss's cottage. Why were they all here? The first peacekeeper I knew met me at the door of the cottage. It was the peacekeeper from the reaping, the same one who glared at me for daring to interrupt his all-important marching of the tribute to the stage. I stifle my urge to laugh in his face as he gives me the same glare.

Bravely, I decide to test my luck and see if I can get a little information out of him. It was only a plus that I got to rile him up in the process. I stop in front of the door, staring up into the peacekeeper's stern face. "We must stop meeting like this." I smile cheekily at him, waiting for his reaction to my words. Prim would scold me right now about my manners.

If it was possible, his glare towards me became fiercer. "Watch your tongue, girlie." His rough tone makes it hard for me to not to laugh. If he was trying to sound menacing, he failed.

I take a second to study his appearance, trying to understand his character a bit better. He wasn't unfortunate looking, just the opposite. Green eyes peered down at me from a finely chiseled face with a strong chin. His brown hair fell over his eyes, causing the area to be shadowed. It gave him a threatening look as he glared viciously at me. It was hard to take him seriously I found. For what reason, I can't even comprehend.

"Don't call me Girlie!" I return his glare, not liking his tone with me. It wasn't my smartest idea to pick a fight with a peacekeeper but this one was different. He just rubbed me the wrong way. "Now will you please get out of my way."

He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I live here!" The nerve of the idiot, thinking he owns the place. He knows exactly who I am and who lives here. Heck, he was the one who escorted her to the stage. "Now please move." I try my best to sound nice, resisting the urge to smack him. Jerk.

"Actually girlie, Victor Katniss Everdeen lives here. Not you." I can tell he is enjoying this. The gloating tone in his voice only fuels my anger.

"Who just happens to be my sister!" I reach up to push him out of the way, thinking that's the only way I can get inside. I have a bad feeling about this situation. Being denied access to the cottage could only mean one thing. Katniss is in trouble. "Now move."

He grabs my arm before I can touch him, holding it roughly above my head. He drags my body closer to him, using my arm as leverage. The force of his puIl yanks me into the air, my whole body now dangling off the ground. I can feel his breath on my face as he smirks triumphantly at me. "Now you were saying, girlie."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, not afraid of him at all. Ok, I was lying. I was a little afraid that I had just gotten myself into more trouble than I could handle. Katniss always did tell me I had to learn to keep my mouth shut. She would say I was a magnet for trouble, whatever that meant. "Is this supposed to scare me?" I want to kick myself, knowing that I should think before I speak. Nope. Not going to happen.

"Maybe I should teach you a lesson." His grip on my wrist strengthens, making a small cry of pain escape me.

"Peacekeeper Pierce, put that girl down now!" My savior's voice came from my right. I turn to stare into the face of another Peacekeeper, probably around Haymitch's age. Who was he?

"But sir-"

"Now Peacekeeper!" I smile thankfully in his direction, knowing he was sticking out his neck to rescue me. I know none of the other Peacekeepers would, so why did he. I look at him confused, trying to figure out why he was helping me.

Pierce placed me down roughly, almost causing me to lose my balance. I catch myself at the last second, having no desire to fall in front of him. Peacekeeper Pierce as the other Peacekeeper called him looked pissed. I smirked up at him, knowing that I won this round. So I didn't exactly win. A girl can dream. "Can I go inside now?" I rub my wrist, hoping it wouldn't bruise.

Peacekeeper Pierce looks like he is about to protest when I hear the other Peacekeeper speak. "Let her in, Pierce! The President is almost done anyways." I wonder if this other Peacekeeper is Pierce's boss. He had to be if this brute was listening to him.

"Yes, Peacekeeper Rune!"

I try my best not to laugh at his constipated face. I can't help it. He looks so sullen at the moment that a giggle escapes me. This brute needs to learn not to mess with Nightlock Everdeen. Ok, now I know the pain from before is going to my head. I flex my wrist, wincing at the twinge of pain at the movement. Definitely sprained it.

I study Peacekeeper Rune, trying to figure out why Peacekeeper Pierce listened to him so easily. I was trying to find something special about him but nothing really stood out. He had graying brown hair, shaved close to his head, with brown eyes. He was taller than me, at least 6'0. He wasn't that physically imposing, so my only guess was that he must be a tough individual. Shaking my head, I realize this is none of my concern. I had to get to Katniss.

With one last glance in Peacekeeper Rune's direction, I open the door and enter the cottage. I am assaulted by the smell of roses, which sickens my stomach. Why am I smelling roses inside Katniss's house? I step inside, looking to my left. It is hard for me to believe the scene in front of me. This should not be possible but it is. President. Snow. Is. Having. Tea. With. My. Sister. In. Her. Cottage. In. Victors. Village. In. District. 12.

I stare open mouthed at President Snow, trying to wrap my thoughts around what is happening in front of me. Why is President Snow here? I clench my fists, shutting my mouth quickly. How dare he come here! Hasn't he tortured my family enough? I glance at Katniss, shocked to see her head down. Why isn't she talking? What has been happening in here while I was stuck outside dealing with Peacekeeper Pierce?

"Ahh, you must be Katniss's sister. Nightlock, I assume?" His smile is friendly, despite the coldness I can see in his eyes. I am not so easily deceived.

I nod my head, trying my best to seem sincere. I keep my voice quiet, trying not to let my anger at seeing him here get to me. "Yes, sir. May I ask why you are here?" My fists clench again, hating myself for having to pretend to be friendly to the bastard. I have little to no respect for the man responsible for the reaping of our District's children.

He just continues to smile at me as he stands. "I was just leaving, Nightlock." He holds out his hand for me to shake. Against my better judgment, I take the hand offered. His grip on my hand tightens within seconds as he pulls me closer to him. The scent of roses envelops me, laced with blood. I try not to gag as he speaks once more. "It was a pleasure to meet you." His tone is menacing as he releases my hand, quickly walking around me to exit the cottage.

I fall to my knees in shock, not believing what just occurred. Gathering my wits as the door slams, I run over to Katniss. I shake her, trying to get her attention. She looks up at me, her eyes blank like the first day of her return. I gasp, tears threatening to fall as I whisper. "Katniss, whats going on?"

Her voice is barely above a whisper, frightening me. "He came to talk to me." She pauses, licking her lips before continuing. "He wanted to offer congratulations to me for winning and to remind me that the capitol is always watching."

I cover my mouth with my hand, gasping. "What else did he say, Kit-Kat?"

Katniss stares at me, her eyes tearing as she speaks. "He threatened Prim, Lock…"

I shake my head, not wanting to believe it. How dare he drag out little sister into this. I take her hand in mine, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I promise you, Katniss. I won't let anything happen to Prim."

She nods, her bottom lip trembling. This is unlike any behavior I had ever seen Katniss exhibit. She was always so strong, so stubborn. When did my sister ever become so fearful and compliant? "He threatened you too, Nightlock." Her voice trails off, her eyes squeezed shut as she fights the sob in her throat.

I smile sadly, hugging her tightly. "You are no longer alone in this. I will be by your side every step of the way. We will fight to get through this. Together." Tears streak my cheeks at the end of my short speech, not able to hold in my sadness any longer.

Katniss returns the hug, whispering in my ear. "You got it, little sister." I smile despite my own tears, knowing we can get through anything. We were Everdeens. Nothing could stop us. Plus my sister, Kit-Kat, Katniss Everdeen was back.


	7. The Process of asking for Help

_I'm so happy to see this story so well loved. Not much happens in this one but it is necessary for the story to continue with character relationship building. Well, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 7:**

**The Process of asking for Help**

After President Snow's visit to the cottage, everything changed. Despite our talk about how we are going to protect Prim, Katniss seemed to shut down. She would no longer go for walks or even venture outside the house. It was like nothing mattered anymore to her. It was like Mother all over again after Father's death. Katniss would sit in the corner of the kitchen, looking out the window as the world passed her by. She never smiled, laughed, or spoke. She just stared blankly from her seat, as if she had not a care in the world. The resemblance to Mother's reaction so many years ago scared me.

Mother was the first to give up. She tried for hours to get Katniss to talk, even talking about her days living in the Merchants quarters. She recalled tales of her youth for all of us to hear, despite the pain it caused her. She spoke of her engagement to another man, who she refused to name, that was arranged by her parents. She said she didn't love him, yearning for our Father instead. I now understand why she gave up everything for our Father, even any friendly relations with her family, and how it destroyed her when he died. Still, her tales of the past did nothing to rouse Katniss from her stupor.

Nevertheless, Prim and I haven't given up on Katniss. We felt Mother didn't give Katniss enough time for her stories to work, knowing how much Katniss loved to hear about our Father. Mother's weak constitution is something I've grown used to over the years. She is still recovering from Father's death, even after all these years. I am still waiting for the day she will slip back into her comatose state, giving up altogether on us. If she did it once, she could do it again. It is because of this that I can't trust her to take care of Prim if something were to happen to me.

However, Katniss would be able to take care of Prim in my absence. She won the Hunger Games and can no longer be called into the arena, guaranteeing that she will always be there. Prim has idolized Katniss since we were little and I knew she would be just fine without me. I don't know why I am accepting my potential reaping so easily. It might be because if Katniss can survive the Hunger Games, I might stand a chance of my own.

The only potential problem with my reaping was that I had to snap Katniss out of this depressing state. The time when Prim could be reaped was only two years away. I already knew I would take her place in a heartbeat. I could only hope that Katniss would be up to the job of mentoring me. We would go to the capitol together, and hopefully, return together as well. I would do everything in my power to protect Prim, even risking my own life.

Prim has tried everything she could think of to snap Katniss out of this state. She even tried the Buttercup trick again. I cringe at the memory of fur flying and the yowl that escaped him as he booked it out the kitchen window. Thankfully, neither Prim nor Katniss were scratched during his little freak out. I however was the prime target of his anger. The one time I decide to bake in the kitchen during the afternoon is when Buttercup breaks our mutual agreement. The scratches lining my arms, stopping above the wrapping on my wrist, speak of the painful experience.

I touch the fading scratches in distaste, wishing that I could cook the cat just like Katniss always swore to him. Shaking my head, I glance to the corner window where Katniss sat. Was it worth it to try to talk to her right now? I would just be ignored as usual. I lick my lips before speaking, not knowing if she will respond to me. "Katniss? Do you want to go to the bakery with me?"

The bakery was just an excuse to talk to her. I had run out of things to talk about last week. It had been over a month since President Snow had visited. A month since Katniss had closed herself off from us. I sigh, walking slowly over to her. "Katniss, you have to come back to us. We need you. I need you." Resting my unwrapped hand on her shoulder, I squeeze it reassuringly. I am not sure if she knows I'm talking to her but I refuse to give up.

Dropping my hand, I turn away from her in an attempt to hide my pain. Why was she refusing to answer us? Didn't she care about us anymore? It wasn't worth shouting at her. I had tried that the first week to no avail. Prim had raised her voice at Katniss the third week, getting the same results. It frightened me that Katniss wouldn't respond, even to Prim. Primrose almost never raised her voice. When she does we usually listen and respond immediately, not liking to see the ever innocent Prim angry at us.

I glance back at Katniss, hoping to see a change in her demeanor. She is still the same. Clenching my fists, I push down the hurt. I had to fix this. Katniss has been like this too long and I refused to let it continue. I try to think of something we haven't tried yet. Prim shouting was one of our last resorts besides using Buttercup. Who else could possibly have an effect on Katniss?

Haymitch Abernathy.

As much as I detest involving him in our problems, Haymitch might be the answer. He knew the pain of being a victor of the Hunger Games. I didn't know what Katniss was feeling. I couldn't understand her problems as much as I wanted to. Haymitch could. He has been through the trials of dealing with watching friends die and having to kill to survive. He was the only one who could help Katniss. I was sure of it. He might even know how to deal with Snow.

Knowing this might be my last chance to help Katniss, I reach to grab my jacket before realizing I won't need it. Summer was almost over, so the air was still thick with humidity. Despite the light breezes in the summer heat, a jacket wasn't required to walk over to Haymitch's cottage next door. Stealing myself at the unfortunate task of waking Haymitch from his drunken state, I open the front door and slam it behind me. Maybe that will get a reaction out of her, although I doubt it.

I walk swiftly past the bushes lining the path to Katniss's cottage and out the front gate. I turn left, heading towards Haymitch's cottage. He lived further back in Victors Village, where he was secluded from the rest of us. I reach his front door within a minute, my hand shaking as I knock. The first knock gets no response, much to my disappointment. I wonder if he has already passed out.

Knocking insistently until I get a response, the sound of glass breaking catches me by surprise. I am unable to suppress the gasp that escapes me as I hear grunting and cursing from the other side of the door. A half step back was my initial response to the racket that Haymitch was making on his way to answering the door. The door is wrenched open and a drunk, angry Haymitch greets me with narrowed eyes.

"What do you want?"

I swallow, smiling hesitantly up at him. Even after all these years, Haymitch Abernathy scares me. I had seen him around the Hob and the few glances each year during the reaping, where he was almost always drunk. Waving my hand in greeting, I force my voice not to quiver as I reply. "Can't neighbors say hi to each other?"

He grunts, ignoring my response and turns to close the door. Before I realize it, I had reached out to stop the door from closing with my hand. The distance between us had reduced greatly with my actions, forcing the smell of stale alcohol from inside to assault me. I look up into the annoyed face of Haymitch before smiling sheepishly. "Please don't."

Haymitch glares at me before turning to go back inside, leaving the door open. I watch as he grabs a nearby bottle on the table and chugs it. Shaking my head, I step inside, narrowly missing tripping on an empty bottle. Looking around, I realize that there are empty bottles everywhere in his cottage. The stench of stale alcohol makes me nauseous. Fighting the sickness that begins to overwhelm me, I force the words out before I lose my nerve. "I need your help, Haymitch."

He takes the bottle away from his lips, looking at me questionably through his drunken eyes. "What sweetheart? You finally need help from old drunk Haymitch?" His voice is condescending, the slurs in his speech hard to ignore. I hadn't realized my dislike for him was that transparent to others.

I look away, ashamed that I never really gave him a chance. Then again, he has never given me a reason to trust him. I steel myself against his words, knowing Katniss was the important issue right now. Not my feelings. "Katniss needs your help Haymitch." I look at him pleadingly, hating to appear weak in front of others, especially men who can't go a day without a drink.

He laughs at me, his words slurring at he speaks. "Well now, why would that little fighter need my help. Katniss made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with me after the last Hunger Games." He puts the bottle to his lips, seeking the last drops in the bottle before throwing it against the wall. "How could I help her when I can't even help myself." The sound of the glass shattering causes me to jump.

I lip my licks, knowing I have to make him understand. "Haymitch please. She sits there all day, never moving. She doesn't eat, sleep, or speak to any of us." My voice trembles at the next words. "She was doing fine after the games, recovering with the help of Prim and me. The Snow comes to visit." The name of Panem's president tastes like coal in my mouth.

His hands clench into fists at the mention of President Snow. Did he hate the man as much as I did? "He threatened her, Haymitch. He threatened her with the reaping of our little sister and she could do nothing about it." I look at him pleadingly, trying to make him realize how desperately she needs his help. "Please help her. You are the only one here who understands what she is going through." Turning away, I wipe at the tears that threaten to spill. Why am I getting so emotional after talking about Katniss? I didn't realize how much an emotional toll Katniss's state was having on me.

"Alright, sweetheart. I will talk to her." His voice is quiet, despite the icy tones to his words. "No promises though."

I turn and smile thankfully at him, knowing this was asking a lot of him. Against my better judgment, I run over and give him a hug. This surprises him, his frame stiffening up as I wrap my arms around the middle of him. My own actions surprise myself. Maybe Haymitch was beginning to grow on me. I gag slightly, my nose wrinkling as the putrid smell of alcohol assaults me. "First, you need a bath."

He laughs at my words, the sounds filling the small cottage. I smile against his shirt, hoping this plan will work. It just had to.


	8. The Confrontation

_Well, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 8:**

**The Confrontation**

To say my plan succeeded would be putting it lightly.

After returning from Haymitch's cottage, I was confronted by Mother at the door. I was surprised she even remembered she had a third daughter. As the middle child of three girls, I tended to be overlooked by my Mother. Father was the one who would tuck me in at night, sing lullabies for me, and be there to pick me up if I fell. Mother on the other hand would only acknowledge me if I did something intriguing or happened to be interacting with one of my sisters.

After Father died, she walled herself off to us and forgot about my existence completely. She would occasionally speak to Katniss or Prim, choosing to ignore me entirely. At first this bothered me. I didn't like being disregarded by the only living parent I had left. As the years wore on, I gave up caring about being acknowledged and focused my efforts on my sisters. They were my family now and that was all that mattered to me. If someone asked me, I would say I didn't have a Mother. It is cold but I wouldn't be lying either. I haven't had a Mother since Father died and I preferred it that way.

This is why I found it funny that Mother would chose now of all times to try to fix her relationship with me. Her worried expression does nothing to alleviate my humor of the situation as I follow her into the kitchen. Leaning against the only wall, I cross my arms over my chest trying not to snicker at she fidgets under my glare. "What do you want Mother?"

"Where have you been Nightlock? I was worried." Her concerned mutterings just make me laugh. Was she serious? She frowns as I laugh at her, not understanding why I find her concern for my well being funny.

"Come on, Cameron." An offended gasp escapes my Mother at hearing me say her first name. I try my best not to snigger as I continue. "Stop pretending you actually care about me when you don't. I have more important things to worry about then you trying to go all Mother on me." I glance at Katniss to emphasize my point.

"Now you listen to me young lady. I am your Mother and I deserve some respect from you." Her scolding tone does not have the desired effect on me that she wishes.

I cast a dirty look in her direction, frowning at her foolish attempt to sound domineering. She came off appearing more as a spoiled child used to getting her way then a concerned parent. Was this what my Mother was like when living with her merchant parents? I shudder at the thought, thankful I have nothing in common with her. I quickly come to the decision that it would be smarter to keep quiet and let her think she has won, even if she deserves to be put in her place.

Apparently my silence isn't well received. Her insistent tone aggravates my already frazzled nerves as she grabs my arm. "You will look at me when I am talking to you, Nightlock." Her scalding words fuel my seething anger at her audacity to touch me. If there is one thing I can't stand, it is people manhandling me like I am some plaything.

I rip my arm away from her, glowering angrily in her direction. "Don't touch me, Cameron." My hand pushes her away from me, not caring if she gets hurt. "I refuse to talk to you when you are acting like a child." My body turns to leave as Mother tries to grasp her bearings while I decide to be the adult in this conversation. The nerve of that woman to try to make me seem like the guilty party when she is the one at fault. I exit the kitchen before I do something I might regret, calling back as I open the front door. "By the way, I was at Haymitch Abernathy's trying to get help for Katniss." With those parting words, I slam the door.

Not quite wanting to stick around the cottage, I walk towards the Merchants' quarters. I decide to allow my feet to carry me wherever they will, not having a chosen course. I had allowed my anger to rule me much to my dismay. I had let Mother get to me for the first time in a year. The self-control I had worked so hard to build up had shattered in a matter of minutes. Have I been under so much stress lately that my walls were caving under pressure? The thought frightened me. What if I had snapped at Prim?

"Hey Nightlock!"

I look up quickly, not prepared to see Peeta Mellark's smiling face. My attempt to return his smile fails, the depressing thoughts running through my mind not easily rid of. I must have the bakery as my autopilot destination. This is something I must fix immediately. "Hi Peeta." My reply is utterly pathetic. I mentally kick myself for appearing weak in front of him.

If I want him to be with Katniss, I can't have him showing any concern for me. This would immediately result in Katniss refusing to develop any interest in him if by chance she saw us. Her nobility towards Prim and I is frustrating at times. If she thought I had affection for Peeta, she would honorably step aside despite her own feelings. Now I have to come up with a plausible reason for him to leave me alone without drawing too much attention to myself.

With a bit of effort, I weakly cry out in pain as I grasp my wrist, hoping it will explain the lack of joyful response to Peeta's greeting and allow me to continue on my way. Of course, this backfires on me before I think my entire plan through. Peeta drops the broom I hadn't noticed he was holding and rushes to my side. He guides me over to the porch in front of the bakery, forcing me to sit down as he examines the wrist I had been holding. I wince as he applies pressure through the wrapping. As he does this, I find it amusing that I was smart enough to use the one actually sprained. At least I wasn't completely lying about being injured.

"It doesn't appear to be broken, Nightlock." He rubs the back of my hand as his blue eyes meet my grey ones. I swallow, a lump forming in my throat. Why did he always have to affect me like this? Tears begin to blur my vision as I resist the urge to cry in front of the boy I felt so strongly for. He was Katniss's, not mine. Peeta Mellark would never be mine.

His panicked expression gives me the strength to force a watery smile to reach my lips. "I think it is just sprained," I murmur quietly through my tears. Peeta seems to believe my tears are a result of the pain from my wrist and saves me from the humiliation of lying. I hate feeling so exposed around him.

"How did this happen?" His gentle coaxing makes me flush with embarrassment as his words send my thoughts whirling. How was I going to explain this?

I frantically try to come up with a scenario but nothing comes to mind. Knowing that the truth is always better than a lie, I decide to be honest with him. I smile sheepishly at him despite the tears that begin to fall. Stupid emotions. "I got into a fight with a Peacekeeper." I look down, ashamed at myself for the rashness in my decision despite the reasoning behind it. Why did I have to be so pig headed sometimes?

He laughs, his hand brushing the underside of my chin. I blush deeply, not understanding why he is touching me. Normally, I would yell at whoever had the nerve to lay a hand on me. However, Peeta was different. I couldn't think coherently once his hand came in contact with my skin, sending my heart into a beating frenzy.

He forces me to look up at him, his blue eyes dancing with mirth. "Only you would have the spirit to challenge a Peacekeeper in this district."

My blush deepens under his gaze, my skin tingling with his words. Did he just call me brave or foolhardy? I am unsure if he is complimenting me for my daring or scolding me for being foolish to talk back. Licking my lips, I gently prod him for his reasoning. "Are you making fun of me, Peeta?"

I don't like that I might be falling deeper for my sister's boy with the bread. What hurts even more is that I know I am overreacting to his presence when he means nothing by his words or actions. I was only a friend to him, at most like a little sister. I pull away from him before he answers, not liking the intimate position we were in.

Peeta seems to understand I need space as he stands, picking up the broom he had dropped when rushing to my side. With his back to me, I can't see his face and am unable to figure out how he feels about the situation. "Is it so hard for you to believe that someone is concerned about your wellbeing, Nightlock?" His calm words catch me by surprise, triggering a sense of loss I hadn't known I could feel.

My hands are shaking as I force my legs to stand. I can't do this. My head is spinning from his words as I try to grapple control over my emotions. I want to run over and hug him, burying my face in his shirt as I cry my heart out. My body tightens as I fight these urges, knowing I can never give in to these silly whims. Peeta is not mine, he is Katniss's.

Katniss. That's right. Haymitch should be over at the cottage now talking to Katniss. More like yelling at her if I know him. I giggle slightly as the image of Haymitch drunkenly yelling at Katniss comes to mind, slurs and all. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself down and focus on my sister. She was what mattered most to me. My feelings weren't important right now. I had to get back to make sure this plan worked and it would best for me to leave before I do something I regret.

Knowing it is rude to leave without saying goodbye, I call out as I turn in the direction of the Victors' Village. "Thank you for all your help, Peeta!" I don't wait to see if he responds as I take off running, realizing I have to get back as soon as possible.

Within minutes, I am standing in front of the Victors' Village, staring at Katniss's cottage. I take a deep breath before marching over to the front door and pushing it open. The sight that greets me shocks me to the core. Prim is sitting on the steps; Buttercup nestled in her arms, crying. Mother is huddled on the couch, sobbing into her hands. What could have happened while I was away? Rushing over to Prim before I can stop myself, I touch her shoulder in concern. "Prim?"

Her teary blue eyes look up into mine, her bottom lip quivering as she clutches the cat to her chest. "He won't stop yelling at her, Lock." Her tears get the best of me as I kneel and pull her into my arms, completely forgetting about the hell beast that lay on her lap.

"How long has this been going on?" I gently prod her for answers, hoping to figure out how ended up in crying.

Prim shakes her head, tears leaving trails down her cheeks as she speaks. "A while I guess. I came home to Mother huddled on the couch, sobbing." She looks in the direction of the kitchen before continuing. "Then I heard yelling in the kitchen. I was scared, so I went to check it out. I'm sorry Lock. I couldn't stop him." More tears escape her as she mumbles the last words. "He wouldn't stop yelling at Katniss, Lock. I'm scared he might hurt her."

I smile gently before kissing her hair. Releasing my hold on her, I stand before she can stop me. I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, hoping it will calm her down. "I will fix this, Prim. I promise." Haymitch wouldn't hurt me, I was sure of it. Even if he was drunk, he wouldn't hurt anyone. He was just scary when he got himself worked up.

"But Night-"

I shake my head and chose to ignore her protests as I place a finger to my lips to emphasize my desire for her to be quiet. "I know what I am doing Prim." With those parting words, I walk towards the kitchen bracing myself for the scene that will greet me. Haymitch is standing over Katniss, yelling at her to get her act together. Katniss is still in the position I left her hours before, staring out the kitchen window blankly in her chair.

"Kid, you can't stay like this. You need to toughen up and deal with your problems."

Leaning against the door frame, I watch Haymitch try to coax a reaction out of Katniss. I wanted to believe he would have the desired effect I wanted, to bring Katniss back to us. Sadly, he seemed to have the same reaction from her as the rest of us got, utter silence. Tears that I had been fighting since I left the cottage the first time finally escaped me. Why won't she come back to us?

"Damn it, Katniss. You can't keep running. Do you want to end up a hopeless drunk like me?" He laughs, leaning against the counter top to prevent him from falling over. "Don't be like me, sweetheart. I saw a fighter in you on that train. Don't make me regret saving her in the games." He clutches the edge of the counter, tightening his grip until his knuckle turns white.

I can't take watching this anymore. Standing, I march over to where Katniss is sitting as tears blur my vision. I can feel Haymitch's eyes on me, almost watching to make sure I don't do anything stupid. Clenching my unwrapped fist, I slap her before I can stop myself. I cry out in pain as my injured wrapped wrist comes in contact with her skin despite biting my lip to muffle it.

Shaking, my entire body is seething with the anger I feel towards my older sister. "If you won't listen to any of us, listen to Haymitch. He has been through the same things as you Katniss. The only difference is you still have us." I send a regretful look at Haymitch, whose eyes shine with the pain of my words. "But if you continue like this, you will lose us too Katniss."

I back away, still shaking with anger. My words have a sharp edge to them as I scream at her. "I won't let you hurt them anymore, even if I have to leave District 12 with Prim. Goodbye Katniss." I can only hope my words will have the effect I wish as I dart out of the kitchen and grab Prim's hand. I drag her forcefully towards the front door and wrench it open.

"Lock, where are we going?"

I ignore her protests as I pull her outside, slamming the door behind us. It had to be like this. If I wanted to get through to Katniss, I had to be unwilling to compromise. I grit my teeth as I mumble, "To the Seam Prim."

The walk back to our old house is quiet. Neither of us has the strength to talk as we walk through the Merchants quarters and passed people rushing home for dinner. I squeeze Prim's hand reassuringly as we enter the Seam, walking the short distance to our old porch. Pushing the door open, I look around the small living area and kitchen that had been home to me for as long as I can remember. I pull Prim inside and shut the door, collapsing in a chair in a fit of tears.

Prim hugs me and rubs my back as I give into my sorrow and fears. I cry for what seems like hours as Prim holds me, being the strong one for the both of us. I was so sick of being the strong one, of taking care of everyone else before myself. It was frightening that something like slapping my sister could send me over the edge.

A knock at the door makes me jump as I watch Prim walk over to answer it. Katniss is standing in the doorway as the door opens, her cheeks wet with tears as she stares sorrowfully at me. Her entire frame is trembling as she collapses; regret reflecting off of her in waves. I swallow before launching myself into her arms, hysterically crying. Prim joins us, her tears joining ours as we hug each other desperately. Our sister was back.

"Welcome back, Kit-Kat."


	9. The Victory Tour

_I've greatly appreciated all the reviews I have been receiving and am excited about how well liked Nightlock is. Her character is actually based on the lead protagonist of one of my favorite novels. And to answer a question mentioned in a review, in this verse President Snow visits every tribute each year to make sure they stay in line with the capitol ideals, which will be explained by Haymitch in this chapter. Katniss did do something to signify rebellion in the capitol by how she honored Rue with the sign for goodbye and the flowers. Otherwise, there will be minor changes for plot twists and to fit how a third sister might affect the sequence of events. _

_I love how this story seems to write itself. Here is another fun plot twist I decided to add before moving along faster with the storyline. _

_Please enjoy!_

**Chapter 9:**

**The Victory Tour**

Katniss spent the rest of the summer rebuilding her relationship with us, instead of preparing for her Victory Tour. It didn't take much for Prim to forgive her, bouncing back to her idolizing Katniss within days. Mother acted like nothing ever happened, much to my shock. Maybe the woman actually cared for someone other than herself. It took me about a week to forgive myself for hitting Kit-Kat, placing little to no blame on my older sister for her depressive behavior over the past month. This was hard for Katniss to accept, so we made a deal. I decided her talent for the Victory Tour.

I chose the one talent I had that would benefit Katniss for the tour; cooking. Although I was a good cook for most normal dishes, I wasn't the most patient teacher. Katniss would laugh whenever I had to correct her cutting method or how she was prepping the ingredients. I usually replied with a rolling of my eyes or demonstrating the action myself for her. This became a normal routine over the next month with the occasional food fights whenever we got bored of waiting for the meal to finish. Much to my surprise, she caught on to my recipes quickly.

Before we knew it, it was time for Katniss to leave for the Victory Tour. Prim begged her to bring back lots of stories about the different districts, which Katniss promised happily. Mother just hugged her, wishing her a good trip. I on the other hand made sure she had the recipes she needed memorized and a promise to pick up new recipes for me when she could. We hugged each other, knowing that my training would begin when she returned. It was time for me to grow up.

The tour was televised, making it easy to follow Katniss's journey through the districts.

She was well received in District 11, the mayor presenting her with flowers much to her amazement. Katniss gave a small speech about Rue, honoring her memory the best she could. I almost cried when Rue's mother hugged her, knowing it must be hard for the family to not have their daughter around. This created a response in the crowd by them demonstrating the District 12 Goodbye for a loved one. I remember last seeing it when Katniss was honoring Rue during the Games. The quick action of the Peacekeepers ended the uneasy commotion caused by the gesture before ushering Katniss off the stage.

The remaining districts were less eventful, though the intriguing interest in Katniss seemed to increase with each speech. I found their enthusiasm towards her presence frightening. This would only draw more attention from President Snow towards Katniss. It might result in consequences that Katniss and I both feared with all our hearts. Prim being reaped the year she becomes eligible for the Hunger Games.

It was the last two districts that showed some animosity towards her. Kit-Kat did happen to personally kill one of Districts 1's and 2's tributes, so some hostility could be expected. I watched her make her speech each time, holding my breath in fear. I could only hope they would leave her alone. Some threatening glares were seen from the murdered tributes families but nothing substantial. I was relieved when she left the districts heading to the capitol.

Her interview with Caesar Flickerman was discomforting to me. His questions were frivolous and materialistic at best. However, his last three questions perked up my interest as he motioned towards the crowd with his hand. I leaned forward towards the screen, gripping Gale's hand in mine. I had gotten closer to Gale while Katniss was gone, much to my surprise. We seemed to have a lot in common when it came to our opinions towards the capitol. I waited in anticipation for Katniss's answer, hoping she was wise with her words.

Caesar's hair was still the same color from the games, shinning brilliantly under the stage lights. His friendly smile, which I suspected to be fake, was a ploy for him to try to comfort Katniss I believe. He stroked her knuckles, waiting patiently for her response. Was he trying to help her or destroy her?

My sister licked her lips, forcing an endearing smile across her face. "Well Caesar, I have been enjoying spending time with my family. Both my sisters have grown in my absence and I am looking forward to catching up with them when I return." Her words were sincere, despite the monotone way she delivered them.

No matter how much time has passed from the last interview, Katniss was still a horrible actor. Caesar's question was about how she been spending her time since returning to District 12. A sickening uneasiness gripped me as I realized they might know about her depressive state during the summer. Were they trying to discredit her as a Victor? It would make her an enemy to the public eye, a weakling.

Gale squeezed my hand, concern flickering in his eyes as I turned towards him. "Is everything alright, Goldilocks?" His prodding towards me did nothing to alleviate the fear that was starting to overtake me.

Shaking my head, tears threatened to fall as I fought the fear in my heart. I could not allow the capitol to take my sister away from me again. My voice was caught in my throat, making me unable to answer Gale. Our relationship had changed in these last several weeks, almost mirroring the one he had with Katniss. Was I developing feelings towards Gale Hawthorne?

"Now Katniss, you are the victor of the 72nd Annual Hunger Games. This is a very desirable thing to some people. Is there anyone back home vying for your attention?"

Caesar's voice brings my attention back to the screen, ripping my gaze from Gale with the shock of such a question. How the hell did he know about Gale and Peeta? Was I just being paranoid? I watch Katniss closely, hoping to figure out if she suspects what I already know.

Katniss bows her head, blushing as she tries to find her voice. "No Caesar. There are none that I know of." I watch in shock as she is able to pull off the perfect response to his question. How did she do that?

"Now Katniss," he coaxes, knowing there is a story behind that blush. "I find that hard to believe. A beautiful girl such as yourself must be beating the men off with a stick. Tell old Caesar the truth. Is there someone back home?"

"Well, my sister complains about how I scare the boys off. She says I am too serious about things for my own good. That I need to lighten up about love." She smiles shyly at him, blushing deeper under his gaze. "Until I am able to accomplish this, I don't believe there will be any man in my future."

I watch, not knowing how she is able to respond to his questions so easily. Thankfully, she used something I said over a year ago. In a way, Katniss hadn't been lying to Caesar. I did believe she was too serious about life, that she needed someone to love. A man that would give her a reason to live besides her family. A man like Peeta Mellark.

Just thinking about Peeta made my heart race, much to my dismay. Why couldn't my heart understand what the mind had already accepted? Peeta Mellark belonged to Katniss, not me. He would never be with me and my heart had to learn to understand this. I glanced at Gale out of the corner of my eye, my breath catching as I realized something for the first time. Gale was a very handsome guy.

All these thoughts about love and men were giving me a headache. I quickly turn back to the screen, realizing I missed the last part of the interview. Katniss is standing now, shaking hands with Caesar as she says goodbye. I could kick myself at my foolishness. Caesar's reaction to Katniss's statement was missed by me because I was too caught up checking out Gale.

Groaning, I bury my face in my hands. Why did I have to realize things like this at the most inopportune time? Gale had released my hand during my mental tantrum, using it to rub my back instead. Did he understand he was only making the situation worse? I peek out through a hole between my fingers to realize Gale was gawking at me. Why was he showing so much interest in what I was doing when Katniss was still on the screen?

Did Gale like me? This thought scared me as much as it thrilled me. Was it possible that I liked both Peeta and Gale at the same time? I drop my hands into my lap, leaning back into my chair groaning. My eyes focus on the wooden ceiling of Katniss's cottage as I contemplate my disastrous dilemma. Only I, Nightlock Everdeen, would be stupid enough to fall for two men whose hearts belong to someone else. That someone else just so happened to be my older sister, Katniss Everdeen.

Why did I have to have such rotten luck with men?


	10. The Changing of the Seasons

_I believe it is time to get a move on with the story. The next 2 years will be told in this chapter, so please bear with me. It will be told in snippets, only recounting events that are important to the plotline._

_Please enjoy!_

**Chapter 10:**

**The Changing of the Seasons**

_Winter_

With winter came the start of my training. It was against the rules to train for the Hunger Games. However, Katniss didn't seem to mind that we were rebelling against the capitol. Katniss and Gale decided to teach me everything they knew about hunting, trapping, snares, and overall survival skills. I have to say, there is a lot I don't know about surviving in the woods. Katniss was patient with me. Always happy to answer any questions I have or give advice when it was needed. Gale on the other hand, tended to snap at me if I didn't get it right straight away.

Gale could be quick to anger if you weren't careful. Anything could set him off. I discovered this one afternoon during a private training session. Katniss was busy that day, discussing mentor stuff with Haymitch. Gale decided to test my knot tying skills on a snare to see how well it worked. I couldn't quite get my hands to perform the task correctly, the constant looping and tightening the knots perplexing me. Gale lost it after I had to start from scratch the third time. He yelled at me, saying I wouldn't have the time in the games to keep having to redo my snares. I screamed back, stating if he stopped standing over me, I might actually be able to perform the task. Let's just say the argument ended with us both calling it a day and not talking for a week.

After the night I realized I liked Gale, everything between us seemed to change. He was more reserved, almost protective about me. He didn't like to see me associating with the men from the Seam. I found this funny rather than embarrassing. I wasn't interested in any guys that lived in the Seam except one, Gale Hawthorne. It didn't help that the other guy I was interest in just so happened to live in the Merchants' quarters. Gale seemed oblivious to my feelings for Peeta Mellark. Although he seemed to notice Peeta's feelings for Katniss. Who by the way was still oblivious to this much to my apprehension.

Sadly, I had tried everything I could think of to put the two of them in the same room. I would drag Katniss to the bakery with the excuse to pick up candy for Prim. We would take walks through town together, walking by the bakery to say hello to Mr. Mellark and Peeta if he was there. I invited Peeta over to teach me how to bake before talking Katniss into staying for the lesson as well. Subtle comments about how nice or great Peeta was would escape me whenever we would run into him, hoping to spark interest from Katniss. Each attempt either resulted in Katniss running off to do something else or completely shooting down anything I say. I was very close to strangling her for her stubbornness. Why did I keep failing at matchmaking the two of them?

I keep wondering if I am subconsciously sabotaging myself when it concerns the two of them. Were my good intentions not necessarily helping either of them? This is a question I ask myself every time one of my ideas crashes and burns miserably. I was only looking out for my older sister. Was it wrong to want Katniss to be happy? Maybe I was just going about this the wrong way.

Sighing, I look out the window towards the falling snow. Prim is frolicking out front with Lady, giggling as a snowflake hits her nose. My little sister loved the snow despite the freezing temperatures that came with it. Winter was her favorite time of the year and my least. The icy roads and chilling winds never sat well with me, reminding me of a memory best forgotten. It was on a cold winter's day that we lost our father in the mine accident. If only he hadn't gone to work that morning, he may still be alive today.

I turn away from the window, tears blurring my vision from the phantom pain. The heartache of losing my father that day has never left me. I grip the seat of my chair, pushing down the sorrow that threatened to overcome me. Every year it was the same. With the first snowfall, my emotions would get the best of me, tearing open the wound from his death. All of us had different ways of dealing with his loss. Katniss hunted, Prim distracted herself, Mother shut herself in her room, and I fell apart. Just like I was doing right now.

Tears fell as the sobs overtook me, wordless cries escaping me from the bitter pain. My legs curled under me as I leaned back in my chair, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The heartache refused to leave me as my mind shut down, trapping me in a world of memories. It was Katniss that found me hours later, still curled up in the same position sobbing. She held me as I gave in to my loss before exhausting myself to a dreamless sleep.

_Spring_

"You are getting better, Goldilocks." Gale smiles proudly at my handiwork, knowing all our hard work was starting to pay off. Three of the five arrows had hit the center of the makeshift target pinned to a distant tree. The other two had hit the outer edges of the target, much to my disappointment.

I pout, not liking that I still couldn't hit the center each time. Each day Katniss and Gale would train me for as long as they could, willingly giving up their free time to help me. With results like these, I felt like I was failing them. I was determined to excel in their teachings, pushing myself to succeed at every task presented to me. Sadly, it wasn't enough to get the outcome I wanted during the archery test today.

Gale notices me pouting, shaking his head at my childish behavior. "Come on, Goldilocks. Don't sulk." He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. My embarrassment at his close proximity makes me drop my bow in surprise, not expecting him to show such affection. What is going on?

"Gale?"

The question in my voice causes his grip on me to tighten, his voice sincere as he speaks. "It took Katniss a while to reach the level she is at today. Don't belittle your hard work." His reassuring words do nothing to ease my racing heart, his touch causing my skin to tingle under my light jacket.

Why was I reacting so much to his touch? Were my feelings growing for him quicker than I anticipated? I turn to bury my face in his shoulder, hoping to hide the blush that is burning my cheeks red. His other arm comes around to hug me as the one on my shoulder drops to my waist. With both arms encircling me, I feel the strength in them from the years of hunting and carrying heavy objects. Blushing deeper, I wonder why he is hugging me.

Lifting my head to look up at him, the redness on my cheeks is clearly visible to him. I swallow, my breath catching in my throat at his eyes meet mine. His warm smile causes butterflies to flutter in my stomach as shivers run up and down my spine. Why does his smile make me feel like this? Only one other person has ever made me feel like this, Peeta.

His eyes darken as I lick my lips, trying to find my voice. "Thank you…" My words are quiet, despite the loud beating of my heart to my ears. I stand up on my tippy toes, laying a brief kiss on his cheek. Gasping, I pull away from him before he can react, frightened by my own lack of self-control. Why did I just do that?

Turning so my back is to him, I clutch my chest to calm my racing heart. My hands are shaking from what I am feeling right now. Fear. Anticipation. Desire. The last emotion is foreign to me, almost out of place in my fourteen year old mind. Why did I do that? Didn't I have feelings for Peeta? Gale's voice startles me out of my musings before my thoughts get too far away from me.

"We should head back, Nightlock." He pauses as I turn to look at him, a blush still staining my cheeks. "It is getting close to dinnertime and I am expected back." His gruff tone sends chills across my skin, causing my breathing to pick up without notice.

I nod in agreement, wanting to get home as quickly as possible. Picking up the fallen bow and retrieving the arrows, I return them to their usual hiding places before following him back to District 12. Not a word is spoken between us on the walk back.

_Summer_

The reaping for the 73rd Annual Hunger Games was uneventful.

Well, as uneventful as a reaping could be in District 12. On the left side of the stage stood Katniss next to Haymitch, who had already been drunk since noon. The capitol woman, who my sister told me was named Effie, was standing in the center smiling at us. Her hair was blue this year, complimenting her better than the vibrant pink she sported the previous year. I was guessing she changed her hair color with each new Hunger Games, though her reasoning was beyond me. Maybe to give herself a unique flare each year? Shaking my head, I wonder if all capitol people were this odd.

I knew neither of the chosen tributes this year. A blonde girl by the name of Becca Reiner and a boy from the Seam named Amos Devlin were standing next to Effie. Becca was crying, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress as she fought to stay quiet. Amos wasn't showing any emotion at all, just shaking from fear or anger, I'm not sure. I felt horrible about the relief that flooded me when I heard Becca's name called. Was it a bad thing that I am thankful it wasn't me? I tune back in just in time to hear Effie's classic parting words.

"May the odds be _ever _in your favor," Effie declares enthusiastically, clapping loudly over the microphone. A few people join her as others fidget, doing their best to avoid her gaze.

As the stage clears of Effie, Katniss, Haymitch, and the tributes, people start to leave while others mill about to talk. I leave my section, trying to catch sight of my family or anyone I know. Pushing through the crowd, it takes all my self-control not to yell at people to get out of my way. In my haste, I fail to see the person run into me, knocking me off balance, as they continue on their way. An arm to my left reaches out to steady me, saving me from a very nasty fall.

My body slams into their shoulder hard as a result, producing a painful groan from the helpful stranger. Catching my breath as I fight the growing throb in my arm, I look up into the pain filled eyes of Peeta Mellark. Suppressing my cry of surprise with my hand, I almost stumble in my haste to get away from him. Peeta's good arm is still holding my elbow as he catches me before I lose my balance again. A cry of pain escapes me as the force of his grip aggravates the tender skin from where our bodies banged together.

His hand lets go of me immediately, pulling back in surprise to my outburst. "Are you alright, Nightlock?" His voice is alarmed, not understanding why I am in pain. His blue eyes study me frantically, trying to figure out where I am injured.

I force a smile through the throbbing pain, not wanting him to worry about me. "I'm fine, Peeta." My words do little to reassure him as I fight to remain standing, my balance still shaky. I force myself to take a step forward to prove my point, only to trip into Peeta's arms. We both wince at the new contact, his shoulder hurting as much as my left arm.

A sheepish smile crosses my lips as I meet his gaze, blushing in embarrassment at my weakness. "Sorry Peeta," I mumble, a nervous laugh escaping me before I can stop it. "Guess I'm not alright." I hang my head at these words, wishing my body would cooperate with me. Why did it chose now of all times to show its fragility? This situation cannot get any worse. Peeta's laugh causes my blush to deepen. Ok, I was wrong. It can.

His right hand strokes my intricately braided hair as he fights to speak through his laughs. "Don't worry about it." He pats my head affectionately, making me want to hide, as he gasps the words out. Did he really just treat me like a little kid?

I groan, unintentionally hiding my face in his shirt. My groans increase as I realize what I'm doing, wanting to kick myself at my foolishness. This is so going in the top ten worst situations I ever got myself into. It even tops the situation with the Peacekeeper last summer, which is still one of the most embarrassing situations I've ever been in. His body had stiffened when I did this, his arms wrapping around me in an awkward hug. Taking a deep breath, I push down the embarrassment in my last ditch attempt to reclaim my dignity. Well the little dignity I had left. I slowly turn to look up at him, hoping my cheeks are no longer read. A serious expression crosses my face as I try to sound outraged. "Are you laughing at me, Peeta Mellark?"

Peeta's barely contained laughter at my question tells me that my attempt had failed. His eyes dance with mirth as he tries not to laugh in my face, his blonde hair falling over his eyes. My heart skips a beat as I realize how handsome he looks at the moment. The urge to brush the hair out of his face is strong. I barely catch myself in time as my hand reaches up and does just that.

My fingers are touching the tips of the locks as Peeta stiffens completely against me. All mirth had drained from his face, confusion and uncertainty at my actions shown plainly. I freeze, caught in his gaze as my body fights to breath. What the hell am I doing? No matter how much I try, I can't find the strength to pull away. The uncertainty in his eyes hurts me. Why can't he look at me the same way he does Kit-Kat?

The pain gives me the strength to move. My hand drops to my side as I roughly pull away from him, hissing in pain as I bump my arm against his. Our eyes are still locked, relief coming over his features as I back away. My feelings must be an open book to him now, easily read in my expression. Is that disappoint I see flicker in his eyes before disappearing? I must be hallucinating from the pain.

Forcing a happy smile is harder than I thought. I lick up lips, the words heavy on my tongue. "Well, see you around." Without a second thought, I break eye contact with him. Not wishing to wait for his answer, I turn and run off into the crowd as the tears start to fall. Within seconds, I disappear from his sight.

_Autumn_

To say I've been avoiding Peeta Mellark is an understatement. If I catch sight of him, I run in in the opposite direction. Prim thinks it's a new game I've invented. Bless her kind heart not to think the worse of me. The memory of that day haunts me, increasing the self-loathing I already feel for myself. My lack of self-control demonstrated in front of Peeta almost ruined everything. How could I be so stupid?

The recollection of his arms around me sends chills creeping down my spine every time. His intriguing blue eyes are engraved in my memory, the uncertainty within them still able to make my heart race. I try not to cry as I remember his relief at me pulling away from him, knowing that his intentions towards me are clear. There are no childish delusions left of him one day reciprocating my feelings. Peeta Mellark made it perfectly clear he has no romantic intentions towards me beyond friendship.

"Goldilocks?"

Gale's voice brings me back to the present, tears blurring the image of Gale's face. Why am I crying again? I rest my head on my arm, watching as Gale kneels in front of me. His rough hands stroke my hair before the fingertips graze the top of my cheeks, making me blush. His grey eyes meet my own, concern and affection reflecting in their depths. I grace him with a hesitant smile, unsure what exactly is going on between us.

After running away from Peeta in the square, I found Gale waiting for me at the edge of the crowd. Without a second thought, I ran into his arms and buiedy my face in his chest crying. He didn't ask me what happened or even if I was alright. He just held me, giving me the comfort I needed while asking for nothing in return. Our relationship changed that day into something I can't explain. We weren't lovers or friends. We were something in-between that I find hard to describe.

"Lock, talk to me." The desperation in his voice pulls at my heartstrings, making me want to tell him everything. But I can't. His eyes search mine, trying to see if I'm going to reply. Apparently satisfied with what he finds, Gale continues. "You've been different Goldilocks. Ever since the reaping, I catch you crying at least once a day. What happened to make you this way?"

I open my mouth to reply before closing it, knowing any words I say are meaningless. Tears collect in the corner of my eyes, streaking my cheeks as they fall. Gale's fingertips wipe away the escaping tears, his face leaning in towards mine. What is he doing? I pick up my head a bit, uncertainty flickering within their depths. With my free hand, I reach out towards him, stroking his cheek.

Gale smiles at me despite the scrutiny I feel under his gaze. What did he want me to say? That Peeta Mellark broke my heart and I am dying of heartache? I try not to laugh at how pathetic I sound. Is this what my feelings for Peeta have made me into? A hopeless mess of a girl who can't get over the rejection of a boy who clearly is interested in her sister. Wasn't I stronger then this?

"Nightlock, tell me what is wrong." His pleading tone makes me feel horrible. Why did Gale care so much about how I felt? I wasn't his sister, girlfriend, or even lover. Only the younger sister of the girl he loved from the Seam. Why do all my problems revolve around men who are in love with my sister? I smile despite my pain, wondering why I have such horrible taste in men.

Touching Gale's face with my free hand, I study his expression looking for something. I need to know I'm not over thinking. That I'm not making the same mistake again. He rests his cheek against my palm, studying me too. I lick my lips before daring to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "Gale?"

No words need to be said as he leans down and kisses me.

_Winter_

Well my initial plan to get Gale to kiss me didn't quite play out like I hoped. Don't get me wrong. He did kiss me…on the forehead. I remember the disappointment that flooded me as his lips grazed my skin. His reasoning for not kissing me is that he refused to take advantage of me. Something about me being a damsel in distress.

So my decision after this to avoid all contact with men didn't surprise me. I was sick of second guessing my feelings, giving into the weakness of affection. Maybe my sister had the right idea to avoid any delusions of love. I know she never wants kids. She told me when I asked if she was going to settle down now that her future was set.

Sighing, I stand just as Katniss walks in the front door. Her cheeks are red from the cold; her jacket zipped up all the way. Her hunting pack is swelling with the herbs Mother and Prim need along with meat she hadn't traded. I walk over to her as she drops the bag and hangs her jacket on a hook. Her arms encircle my waist as I hug her. "Welcome back Kit-Kat."

She laughs, rubbing my back with her hand. "It's good to be home, Lock. Anyone stop by while I was gone?"

I shake my head, gazing up into the beautiful face of my older sister. Despite the tousled hair and her red face from the cold, Katniss is very attractive. I always wondered why she never had a boyfriend. She could have anyone she wants yet she refused to date. Smiling, I pull out of her arms and head towards the kitchen, calling back to her. "Do you want tea, Kit-Kat?"

"Yes please!"

Setting water to boil on the stove, I peek out the doorway of the kitchen. Katniss is leaning against the wall next to the staircase, a peaceful smile on her face. "Good hunting?" I ask, knowing the task always brought her such happiness. We were taking a break from my training today, since I wanted sometime away from Gale.

"Yes. Gale and I managed to trap a few rabbits and squirrels, trading them for supplies. Even managed to sell four squirrels and a rabbit to the Mellarks for some bread rolls." She turns to look at me, the elation in her face warming my heart despite the mention of Peeta's family. "We were lucky. The old witch was out and that's the only time Mr. Mellark would trade with us." I nod absently, not really wishing to hear about the Mellark family.

I return to the kitchen, Katniss following me as she talks about the rest of the trades. The water is boiling, steam rising from the container as I pour it into two cups. Peppermint leaves are placed in each cup, one of my favorite flavors. I set the kettle down before handing one of the cups to Katniss. "Watch out. It's hot," I implore her, knowing she doesn't always remember to check the temperature before taking a sip.

"Oh, thank you." She takes the cup in her hands, smiling thankfully at me. "Smells good." I nod, taking a sip of my own and loving the bitter taste on my tongue. Katniss on the other hand is waiting for hers to cool a bit before braving a taste of the hot liquid. "He says hello by the way."

"Oh. I just saw Gale yesterday." I reply, taking another sip of the hot tea in my cup. Why would Gale tell her to say hello? Wouldn't he have stopped by today to say hello if he really wanted to see me. I will never understand men.

"Not Gale. Peeta says hello."

I nearly drop my cup, not believing what Katniss just told me. Coughing as I try to collect myself is hard. It took a lot of self-control not to spit my tea out at her in retaliation at her statement. I swallow the tea quickly as I glare at her amused expression, setting my half full cup down. "Don't do that Katniss. I could have choked."

Katniss frowns, not understanding why I'm so annoyed at her. "Is something wrong, Lock?" Her concerned expression sets off alarm bells in my head. Oh crap, did I just unconsciously admit to her I used to/still have feelings for Peeta?

Gesturing frantically with my hands in front of my face, I shake my head. "No, Kit-Kat. You just surprised me. That's all." I smile, hoping to alleviate any of the suspicions that have aroused in her. Please don't ask about Peeta. Please don't ask about Peeta."

"If you say so, Nightlock." She finally takes a sip of her tea, frowning at the bitter taste. "Not Peppermint again." I smile apologetically, knowing peppermint isn't her favorite flavor.

"Sorry, Katniss." I finish the rest of my tea in one gulp, not caring if it is bad manners. Looking up at her questionably, I suddenly remember something that has been bugging me for a while. "Katniss, will you be my mentor if I am chosen this year?"

The question catches her by surprise, the terror in her eyes alarming me. "Ah yes." She fidgets as her eyes harden studying me. "Why do you ask, Lock?"

I shrug, trying to make light of my question. "Well there is a high likelihood that I will be a tribute this year and I wanted to know if you or Haymitch would be mentoring me."

Relief floods her features as her tensed muscles relax, giving me an understanding smile. "Yes. I will be mentoring you along with Haymitch. We discovered we work best as a team for our tributes." A haunted look flicks across her face before disappearing, scaring me. What has my sister seen that is so horrible?

"Sounds good," I enthusiastically reply, trying to ease her nerves. It didn't work. The tension didn't leave our conversation for the rest of the day.

_Spring_

With a deep breath, I find the strength to knock on his door. Silence greets me, signifying that the occupant is still asleep. Knowing it is almost impossible to wake Haymitch up this early in the morning without dumping a bucket of water over his head, I hesitantly open the door. The stale stench of alcohol and vomit assaults me as the door swings up. I cover my nose with my sleeve, taking a step inside.

"Haymitch," I call, hoping that I won't have to go tracking through his house to find him. How anyone can live in such a pig sty is beyond me. Looking around the areas I can see, empty bottles lay everywhere with rotten food covering the remaining parts. I cringe in disgust, thankful that I wasn't the one to have to clean this mess up.

"Haymitch!" My voice reverberates through the rooms, carrying up the stairs. His usual spot collapsed at the table is vacant, much to my surprise. Did he actually make it up to his room? I tread carefully through the living area, not wishing to step in any week old vomit or rotten fruit. Heading towards the stairs, I peer up into the darken hallway in hopes he would appear at the top. I sigh as I begin to climb them as a voice shouts my name behind me.

"Nightlock! What are you doing here?"

I whirl around, eyes catching sight of a clean looking Haymitch. Gasping at the unfamiliar site, I stutter over my words as I reply. "Haymitch, is that you?"

He gives me his trademark grin, finding my shock at his appearance amusing. "Now sweetheart. Who else would live in this dump?" He gestures to the rooms filled of beer bottles and rotten fruit.

Nodding, I step down from the stairs, still in shock. What the heck happened to him? Did the capitol switch him out for a mutt or something? "Haymitch, what happened to you?"

He gestures for me to follow him outside, which I happily comply this. He leans against the outer wall of his house, studying me. "I decided to get cleaned up a bit today, sweetheart." He smirks at me, the clearness in his eyes unnerving me. I was so used to the drunken haze that it was hard to understand why he was sober. It is because of this that I am suspicious of the new Haymitch.

"Why are you sober Haymitch?"

He shrugs, grinning cockily at me. "Is it so hard to believe that I wanted to be clean today?" The sarcasm in his voice annoys me, almost as if he was mocking my concern for him.

Hands on my hips, I glare at him angrily. "Did Katniss threaten you to get your act together?" I accuse him, knowing he doesn't have the willpower to achieve something like this on his own. Was my sister trying to help him? I know she liked the crazy bastard but that didn't mean I had to.

A flicker of hurt appears in his eyes before they harden in contempt. "That is none of your business, _sweetheart._" His words drip with disdain, making me question if I went too far. "What I do or don't do is up to me. It isn't any business of yours."

I nod, swallowing nervously at his hateful expression. Now I really did it.

Haymitch pushes me to the side, marching past me as he slams the door behind him. I cringe, knowing I pushed him too far this time. Haymitch and I were both too pig headed for our own good. If I didn't get my act together, he might just try to kill me on purpose if I am a tribute.

_Summer_

It was the 74th Annual Hunger Games that opened my sister's eyes to the power she possessed over the people of Panem. All the displays of minor rebellion had been leading up to this.

This was the beginning of her tale as the Mockingjay, the hope of Panem.


	11. The Volunteer

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters. It is property of Suzanne Collins. _

_Sorry for the long delay in updating. Finals were coming up fast, so had to concentrate on studying. Now with finals done, on with the story!_

_And now what you all have been waiting for! May the 74__th__ Annual Hunger Games begin!_

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter 11:**

**The Volunteer**

The morning of The Reaping started like any other. Katniss was out of the cottage at dawn to hunt, kissing Prim and me goodbye before she left. Unlike Prim who went right back to sleep, I was wide awake. This was the first day I wouldn't be training all day, either with someone else or by myself. It was unnerving to know that all my training over the last year and a half had been leading up to this moment. Katniss knew I would do everything I could to prevent Prim from participating in the Hunger Games. I refused to let President Snow's threats to Prim come to pass.

Prim turned over on her side to my right, whimpering in her sleep. My hand rubs her back, trying to comfort her to the best of my ability. With a sharp cry, she sits up screaming, hysterically crying at she clutches my arm. I hum and murmur softly, hoping to calm her down as I pull my little sister close to me. "It's ok Prim. I'm here, little duck." The use of Katniss's nickname for her seems to work as Prim quieted down.

Her cries break my heart, wishing there was something more I could do for her. I embrace her tightly, resting my chin on her head. The last time we went through this was almost two years ago when Katniss was in the Hunger Games. Forcing down my own tears, I softly try to get her attention. "Prim, are you alright?"

She sniffles, her hands clutching my nightshirt. It was one of Father's old work shirts, although it no longer smelled of him. It made me feel close to him after all these years, almost like he was still with us. Prim's grip on me tightened, her words coming out mumbled. "It was me, Lock. They picked me for the games."

Fear grips me, making it hard for my voice to remain steady. "Oh Prim…" My vision blurs as tears threaten to overcome my weak control. Why did my deepest fears have to haunt my little sister's dreams? It wasn't fair to her. Stroking Prim's hair, my own tears fall as I give in to my emotions. "I promise you, Prim. I won't let them take you." I bury my face in her hair, just holding my baby sister for what might be the last time. The capitol was cruel to make us sacrifice our loved ones for their entertainment. I refused to allow them to take our little duck away from us, even if I had to take her place.

I rocked Prim until she fell asleep, laying her gently on the pillows. My body was too awake to go back to sleep even if I wanted to. Sighing, I climbed out of bed and dressed in some of Katniss's old clothes. She didn't mind that I still wore her old hand me downs, actually encouraging it. Katniss always offered me her capitol clothes to wear, since we were similar sizes, in hopes she could get rid of them. I usually refused, feeling more at home in her old Seam clothes, despite my amusement at her having to wear capitol fashion. The Seam clothes made me feel more like my old self, not just the younger sister of one of District 12's victors. Just Nightlock Everdeen, daughter of Darroch and Cameron Everdeen.

Walking down the stairs, I notice sunshine streaming in through the windows of the living area. It casts shadows on the floor, which seemed to be amusing to Buttercup. He was chasing the shadowy branches from the trees across the floor, yowling every time he misses one. "You silly cat," I giggle, wondering what provoked his adorable behavior. He mustn't have seen Katniss this morning. Feeling silly, I decide to ask the cat. "I wonder if Katniss threatened to cook you this morning." A hiss is his response, the distinct tail flick testifying his outrage at hearing Katniss's name. I guess that was a yes.

Grabbing my light jacket to throw over my shirt, I open the front door and step outside. It's a beautiful day today much to my disappointment. This thought doesn't sit well with me. Was this an indication that the reaping isn't going to go well? I shake my head, not liking the route my thoughts are heading in. Maybe it would be better if I focused on something else. Like what my destination will be for my stroll. Not having a set course of direction, I decide to let my feet take me where they will.

The streets of the Merchants quarters were emptier than usual. This wasn't much of a surprise to anyone on a Reaping day. People did their best to keep their minds off the morbid time that the capitol loves to celebrate, choosing often to work or stay inside. Families dreaded having to offer up their children ages 12 to 18 for sacrifice to the capitol, devoting much of their time to saying goodbye this morning. I sigh, knowing it would be pointless to try to be social with anyone. Prim and I were already going to be spectacles today, rather not give them a chance to start gawking early.

I had been walking around for a while now, lost in my thoughts. With nothing else to do, I decide to check out the Hob. There was a good chance I might run into Katniss or Gale there. It would be nice to walk back with her, knowing this might be the last time I see her for a while. Pushing open the door, I am immediately assaulted with various smells and noises. The Hob is as busy as ever, people trading and haggling on food for their families.

Almost immediately, I catch sight of Katniss. She is talking to Greasy Sae, trying to trade three squirrels for some food. I run over to greet her, happy to see her in a better mood. She had been quiet last night, barely speaking a word to us as she packed for the capitol. She looked livelier now, smiling and laughing at something Greasy Sae said. I catch the tail end of the trade as I reach them.

"Very well, Katniss. Here you are." Greasy Sae hands over the food, grasping the three squirrels by their tails and a rabbit by its ears in her hand. "Good luck to those sisters of yours. One Everdeen in the games is enough for me." This elicits a giggle out of me before I can stop it.

At the sound of my giggle, Katniss turns to realize I had heard Greasy Sae's comment. I smile innocently at her, knowing that teasing her would be a very bad idea right now. She rolls her eyes, not buying my little act one bit. "What you get?" I ask, wondering what was worth the squirrels and the rabbit.

Katniss holds up some fruits and crackers, along with two apples. My mouth waters at the sight of the apple, realizing I missed breakfast this morning. The growling of my stomach brings a chuckle from behind me, making me turn around to see Gale. A blush floods my cheeks, showing my embarrassment at being caught drooling over an apple. This day is turning out to be quite the humiliating ordeal much to my annoyance. Wasn't The Reaping enough to make this day horrible? It's bad enough that we have to go offer ourselves up for murder. Now I have to deal with this?

Glaring at him for laughing at me, I turn away from him in a huff. If he is going to laugh at me, I'm not going to pay him any mind. Gale seemed to catch up on my game as he snuck up behind me without my notice. I squeal as I feel arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close to him. My face turns red as I sputter in protest. "Gale! Let me go!"

"No way, Goldilocks. Not until I get a kiss hello." His teasing tone infuriates me even more, causing me to elbow him in the ribs. This causes the breath to leave his body quickly, making him lean forward slightly in pain. "That hurt Lock."

His arms are still wrapped around me as I crane around to look at him. "Will you let me go Gale?" My pleading tone seems to get through to him as his grip on me loosens. Using this to my advantage, I spin around and pull away from him before he can stop me. I spot Katniss at the door, a smirk on her face. Must she take delight in my embarrassment? Deciding that I can annoy Katniss and Gale in one go, I quickly kiss Gale on the cheek on my run over to Katniss.

A dazed smile forms on his face as he realizes what I just did. Giggling, I wave to him as I reach Katniss. "There is your kiss Gale. See you in the square!" An annoyed look greets me from Katniss, making me smile sheepishly in response.

"Behave Lock." Her scolding tone doesn't match the laughter in her eyes as she speaks. I shrug, still smiling up at her. She seems to understand that I kissed Gale mostly to annoy her. She studies my face, before shaking her head. "Now come on. We have to get you ready for The Reaping."

I groan, not looking forward to having to wear a dress again. Over the last year, I realized how restricting dresses were for my movements. If I ever had to fight in a dress, my opponent would be able to kill me no problem. Katniss seems to take delight in my misery as she opens the door to the Hob. Gale's voice calls after to us as the door closes behind us.

"Wear something pretty, Goldilocks."

We hurry back to the cottage, knowing we both had very little time to get ready. Katniss pushes the door open, rushing in to store the traded goods in the kitchen. I am greeted at the door to Mother's angry glare, which means we had less time than I thought. Smiling guiltily at her, I run upstairs to scrub down and change. After what seems like forever to get all the dirt off me, I notice a dress lying on the bed in Prim's and my bedroom. It is one of my Mother's old dresses when she lived in the Merchants quarters, blue and a little too frilly for my liking.

Donning the dress quickly, I realize it is almost a perfect fit. I catch a glimpse of my appearance in the mirror, shocked at how much I look like my Mother. Was this what she looked like at my age except for the grey eyes? It was unnerving how well the color suited me. Did Mother mean this as a peace offering between us? Our relationship had been rather rocky over the last year and I kept meaning to talk to her about it. If this is her way of calling a truce between us, I'll take it.

I rush downstairs to spot Katniss admiring Prim's reaping outfit, an old blouse and skirt she and I once wore a long time ago. Giggling at Prim's blush at Katniss's praise, I walk over to Mother and hug her. "Thank you for the dress." I whisper sincerely, hoping she understands that I know how hard it is for her to let me wear it.

"You're welcome, Nightlock." She returns the hug, kissing my forehead affectionately. Despite our differences, Mother and I did care for each other. It was just on a different level than say Prim's or Katniss's affection for her.

"You look so pretty Lock! You too, Katniss." She pouts, a frown marring her face. "I wish I looked like you two." Her tone upsets me, making me wish she wouldn't put herself down so easily.

"No, look at you. You look beautiful." Katniss smiles sweetly at Prim, bending down in front of her. "But you better tuck that tail in, little duck." She emphasizes her point by tucking in Prim's shirt, eliciting a smile from Prim. Katniss's gesture makes me smile, happy to see how she can cheer Prim up with just a few words.

Katniss suddenly focuses on me, gesturing to the door with her eyes. I gasp, realizing we are all going to be late if we don't hurry. "Mother, can you do my hair for me quickly?" She nods before quickly braiding different sections of my hair, keeping it down for once.

"All done."

As soon as Mother finishes with my hair, we all head down to the square together. Prim is clutching my hand as we walk, refusing to let go of me for anything. Katniss looks hurt that Prim is relying on me, making me shoot her an apologetic look. I knew Prim was only clinging to me because Katniss had to go on stage. We reach the square, stopping to hug Katniss goodbye as she heads over to the Justice Building. After we say goodbye to Mother, Prim and I quickly get in line.

The inquisitive and deplorable glances people keep shooting our way grates on my nerves. Prim has noticed them too, her anxiety of her first Reaping increasing by the minute. Don't they have anything better to do than stare at us? So what if our older sister won the Games two years ago. This doesn't mean we are going to be part of the Games this year, though the rumor of disastrous happenings that haunt the victors' families worries me. If the rumors have some truth to them, wouldn't that mean that the Capitol was waiting for the perfect time to put Katniss in her place.

My face pales as the truth dawns on me. They were waiting for Prim to reach Reaping age to illustrate their power over us. The Capitol must have realized from the interviews that Primrose is precious to Katniss. Kit-Kat always spoke lovingly about Prim, never able to find a fault in our little duck. My grip on Prim's hand tightens as we reach the front of the line. I refuse to let the capitol take her. If they want a tribute from Katniss's family, I will willingly volunteer for their entertainment.

They count us in with a blood sample, Prim trembling as they grab her hand. I frown at their rough treatment of her but hold my tongue. She is quickly accounted before she is ushered into the square, urged to go towards her age group. Letting them quickly take my blood, I rush after her. "Go to your roped section Prim. I will collect you after the Reaping." Prim nods her head, still trembling as she runs to the front of the square where the twelve year olds are grouped.

Quickly finding my place among the other fifteen year olds, I search the crowds for someone I know. Gale is easy to spot in the boys eighteen group, talking to his neighbor. He seems angry about something, what I'm not sure. It wasn't unusual to see Gale angrily awaiting the start of the Reaping. His feelings for the Capitol were obvious to those who knew him. I can only hope he is able to hold his tongue until this 'willing' charade is done.

"Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Happy Hunger Games everyone. And may the odds be ever in your favor." Effie's voice over the loudspeakers rouses me from my thoughts, making me jump. Did that woman have a keen sense of when to scare me?

I look towards the stage, spotting the colorful peacock of a woman easily. Her hair was purple this year, stiff in an outrageous updo. Donned in fuchsia suit and hat, I wince at her colorful display among the dull dusty colors of our district. Was she intentionally trying to stand out? Being from the capitol was enough to catch our notice, add to the fact her bright and colorful wardrobe, was a little too much to stand. I don't know how Katniss can tolerate her in large doses.

"Now before we begin. We have a very special treat. Brought to you all the way from the capitol." The uppity tone in her voice causes me to the cringe, wondering what horrors the capitol has come up with for us this time.

A video comes over the screens, displaying images of the Dark Days and the destroyed District 13. The content held little interest to me, knowing that it was all a demonstration of their power over us. The capitol disgusted me, enraged me because of their impertinent ways. After what they put Katniss through, how could I not want revenge against them. If only there was a way the districts come put the capitol in its place.

As if sensing my thoughts, I feel Gale's eyes on me. Flinging a quick glance in his direction, my hunch is proven correct. Gale's gaze unnerves me, causing an uneasy smile to be my response to his lingering attention. Why was he staring at me like that? Did I do something wrong? His lips form words, asking me if I'm alright. Not wanting to worry him, I nod with the still uneasy smile that won't leave me. What was that all about?

"I just love that." Effie's voice flows over us again as the video ends. Her enthusiasm towards the capitol's propaganda that promotes the necessity of our sacrifice disgusts me. I do my best to hide it as she continues. "Now the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 12 in the 74th Annual Hunger Games." Her prideful tone chills me, making me wish I could take Prim out of here and run.

"Now then, our mentors that will train our tributes." She turns and indicates towards the door behind her with her hand. "We have our most recent District 12 victor, Katniss Everdeen." She claps as Katniss walks through the door, a solemn expression on her face. Dressed in a tasteful green dress, Katniss keeps her eyes adverted to the floor as she takes her place on stage to the left of Effie. "And of course, the District 12 victor of the Second Quarter Quell, Haymitch Abernathy." Haymitch drunkenly walks on stage, his gait unsteady and wobbly as he tries to maintain his balance. I watch as he pathetically tries to strut in front of Effie, falling off the stage in the process.

Chuckles arise around me as we watch our only male mentor take a dive off the stage. I groan, covering my face with a hand. If District 12 wasn't already the laughing stock of the Games, we surely were now. My eyes catch Katniss's as she grimaces, her annoyance at Haymitch evident to everyone in the crowd. Now he has done it. I shake my head, knowing Haymitch is going to get an earful on the train. It serves him right, showing up to the Reaping drunk.

Effie seems undeterred at Haymitch's display of coordination. Maybe she is blatantly ignoring him on purpose? "Now onto the selection." Her voice is shriller than usual, much to my distaste. "As usual, ladies first." The satisfaction I hear in her tone makes my stomach churn. How could she be so callous about this?

She walked across the stage, her arrogant display making me sick. The slips waited for her in the bowl, with our fate in her hands. If this was a fair selection, than the odds would be in Prim's favor. With the capitol out to reprimand Katniss for her actions, Primrose didn't stand a chance. My eyes followed her, watching her grab a slip before returning to the center of the stage. Effie leans forward, her lips smiling as she utters the name of the unlucky individual.

"Primrose Everdeen."

No. Damn it. No. Why did our suspicions have to be correct? My feet are frozen in place, fear consuming me as I realize I can't move. I have to get to Prim before they took her from us. Frantically I search for my little sister, spotting her edging towards the center aisle. She is shaking, terror splashed across her face. I bet the capitol is getting some sick satisfaction out of this. I watch as Prim reaches the aisle, a group of Peacekeepers waiting to escort her to Effie.

"Looks like we have another Everdeen this year. Let us give the brave girl a round of applause." Effie proudly announces, clapping loudly amongst the murmurs from the crowd. My hatred for the capitol woman grows as I watch her blatant disregard for my little sister's feelings. Does she care at all for anyone besides herself?

These words seem to send Prim over the edge, her eyes locking with mine as she approaches the group of Peacekeepers. Their intimidating presence does nothing to prevent her attempt to try to push past them. They grab her forcibly, pushing her forward towards the stage despite her various protests. I watch as my little sister starts to fight them, blue eyes pleading with me to help her. "Nightlock! Nightlock!"

Primrose's cries give me the strength to move. Forcing my way through my section, I knock people over in my rush to reach her. The dirty looks and complaints that people give me mean nothing when Prim was shouting for me. Prim needed me and I had to get to her. Finally reaching the center aisle, my breaths come out in short gasps. I hadn't realized how much energy I had expended in trying to reach my little sister. "Prim! Prim!"

I run towards Prim, not caring if I was making a scene. They would not take my sister with them. I refused to let the capitol control our lives anymore. As I reach out to my little sister, a burly Peacekeeper blocks my path. His menacing glare stops me in my tracks, enraging me even more. "Get out of my way!" I whisper angrily, not liking that he was preventing me from reaching Prim.

He grabs my arm roughly, almost throwing me to the ground. I wince at the strength of his grip, glaring up into his green eyes. A gasp escapes me as I recognize him. It was the same jerk that manhandled me two summers ago. What was his name again? I search my memory desperately, trying to remember the name the other Peacekeeper shouted out. Pierce, I think he said.

"Let me go, Pierce." His grip on me tightens as I address him informally. Such disrespect could get me killed on a normal day. However, I was beyond caring at this point. I was planning on sacrificing myself for my sister, ensuring my death at the capitol's hands. If I could rile up a few Peacekeepers along the way, it might make the experience a little more interesting.

"You again!" He utters, hatred gleaming in his eyes. Well, I guess he recognizes me too. Pierce pushes me away from him, nearly knocking me off my feet. "Get back in line, girlie."

Catching my balance, I stand defiantly in front of him. "I volunteer!" My words echo in the square, people around me gapping at my foolishness. Ignoring them, I glance towards the stage at Katniss. Her sorrowful stare pulls at my heart strings, knowing it was killing her to watch me throw my life away. We both knew I had to do it. My tongue feels like lead in my mouth as I shout again. "I volunteer as tribute!" Prim was worth it. She would always be worth it.

Pierce begrudgingly steps aside, casting a fierce scowl in my direction, as Prim is revealed to me. My sister's shocked expression kills me, knowing that her worst nightmare has just happened. She was chosen as tribute and I was willingly taking her place. Prim catches sight of me and launches herself into my arms, crying hysterically. I pull her close to me, kissing her hair affectionately as I brokenly whisper. "You need to get out of here. Go find Mom. I'm so sorry Prim. I'm so sorry."

"No! No!"

Her muffled shouts chill me to the bone, knowing there was nothing I could do to comfort her. I can only watch as arms pull her away from me, carrying her far from harm's way. Gale doesn't say a word as he grabs her, his heartbroken expression telling me exactly what he is thinking. This is hurting him as much as it is hurting me. I swallow, trying my best to appear strong in front of the man that I was just beginning to understand my feelings for. Now, I would never know what Gale Hawthorne means to me.

"A dramatic turn of events, here in District 12." Effie's voice comes over us, her excitement at my surprise actions easily heard. How I hate that woman.

"No. No! No!"

Prim's screams echo in my ears as I am escorted by Peacekeepers to the stage. I can feel the crowd's eyes gawking at me, their shock at my actions evident to all. Was it really that much of a surprise that I would volunteer for my little sister?

"District 12's very first volunteer." Effie exclaims, the chipper tone in her voice grating on my nerves. I wonder if I could hit her when I can talk to her in private. Would they kill me if I did?

All of these conflicting emotions were driving me crazy. Was I in shock after everything that happened? I suppress the urge to giggle as I reach the stairs of the stage. Effie is reaching her hand towards me from up top, an expectant look on her face. She was even more colorful up close, if that was even possible.

"Come on dear." She grasps my shoulders as I reach the top step, escorting me in front of the microphone. Can't I get some breathing room? "What's your name?" She utters, her voice barely containing her excitement.

Seriously? She knows who I am. We have only seen each other the last few years since my older sister won the Games. Deciding it would be in my best interest to play along, I force myself to behave. Licking my lips, I lean over towards the microphone. "Nightlock Everdeen."

"Well I'll bet my hat that was your sister, wasn't it?"

"Yes." My voice is barely above a whisper, the horror of my situation finally dawning on me. I was the female tribute for District 12. Fighting the urge to turn around to glance at Katniss, I scan the audience for my sister. She is hugging my mother in the back, her face hidden from my view. Mother on the other hand is crying, her terrified expression making my stomach churn. I'm sorry, Mom.

"Let's give a big hand for applause for our very first volunteer, Nightlock Everdeen." Effie claps, her eyes scanning the crowd for a reaction. What did the crazy woman expect? Cheering?

What the crowd does next shocks even me. With an almost unanimous reaction, the crowd raises three fingers to their lips and then holds the fingers up for all to see. The District 12 sign for goodbye to a loved one greets me from the stage. Tears threaten to spill as their emotional response, not believing they deemed me worthy of such actions. I did nothing special. Just volunteered to save my little sister from certain death.

Effie twitches nervously beside me before she speaks. "And now for the boys." I can only watch as she walks to the opposite end of the stage and grabs a slip from the boy's bowl. She returns to where I am standing, the anticipation for the male tribute's name killing me.

Please don't let it be him. Please don't let it be him. Please don't let it be him. My relentless chant does nothing to alleviate my fear of waiting, knowing that the boy's fate was in Effie's hands. Literally.

"Gale Hawthorne." Effie proudly announces, her voice echoing over the crowd.

No. No. No. Why, damn it. Why? I shake my head, not willing to believe that life could be this cruel. That the capitol knew our plans and how to punish Katniss and me if we went through with it. Tears start to fall, staining the collar of my dress. I don't have the strength to stop them. The horror at Effie's words stabs at me, constricting my heart in a vice grip. Was there no winning against the capitol?

Unwillingly, my eyes scan the crowd and rest on Gale. His blank expression at hearing his name causes more tears to escape me. Why? Why did they do this? He was so close to the end of the Reaping. Being eighteen meant this was his last chance to be chosen. He was so close to escaping from the capitol's grasp. Why, damn it. WHY!

I can only watch as Gale begins the long trek to the stage, his face remaining blank. I knew how strong Gale was. He would put on a brave front, refusing to let his family worry about him. To anyone watching, they would believe him indifferent to his name being called. To us that knew him best, his eyes told of his fear at hearing his name called. Gale's grey Seam eyes lock with my own, the pain in them shaking me to the core. We both knew the truth. Both of us would be going into the ring and only one of us would be coming out.

Gale is halfway to the stage when a voice cries out, "I volunteer." Shocked, Gale stops dead in his tracks looking around for the boy who uttered those words. I tear my gaze away from him, scanning the crowd for the mysterious volunteer. Who would be willing to give up their chance of freedom for Gale? Who was brave enough to save him?

I watch horrified as the boy who volunteered steps forward, walking confidently past Gale. Gale is frozen in shock, not believing his eyes, just like me. No. No. It can't be. The boy reaches the stage as Effie makes a big deal about District 12 having two volunteers. I can't seem to shake my shock as he speaks his name and waves towards the crowd. Why would he do this? Why would he give up everything for Gale? There was nothing that I could think of that would prompt him to do this.

Effie's words snap me out of my shock. "And here we are our tributes for District 12." Her sickeningly cheerful voice still manages to aggravate me, despite the horror that is still lingering. She gives me a pointed look as she indicates towards the male tribute. "Well come on you two, shake hands."

I stare into the deep blue eyes of the male tribute, not having the strength to think or utter his name. It felt like if I named him, it would make everything that is happening real. I just couldn't deal with that right now. Forcing a tense smile across my lips, I grasp his hand with my own. The strength of his grip surprises me as his gaze bores into me. It was like he could read my thoughts.

Trying my best to force my question into my eyes, I can only hope he can understand what I'm asking. Why did he do it? Why? A shrug and calm smile are my only response from the boy who sacrificed everything to keep my heart from breaking but in the process, he broke it anyway.

"Happy Hunger Games and make the odds be ever in your favor." Effie's final words stay with me as our hands drop and we are escorted inside the Justice Building to await our fate.


	12. The Request

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters. It is property of Suzanne Collins. _

_Well, I know most of you were expecting something different for the reaping. I did add a twist and even more twists are in this chapter. I am trying to stay true to cannon while still implementing some of my own ideas. I promise the next chapter will be longer._

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter 12:**

**The Request**

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor."

What odds are you talking about, you deranged capitol peacock? I fight the urge to scream as I pace within the small room they threw me into. Upon immediately entering the building, Peeta and I were separated and escorted down opposite hallways. I wasn't even given a chance to speak to him before they whisked us away into these waiting rooms. Tributes were given a chance to say goodbye to their loved ones before boarding the train. However, it was taking them forever to bring Mother and Prim to me.

All this time waiting was driving me insane. It didn't help Effie's last words kept replaying in my head. May the odds be ever in your favor. What odds? Does she mean the odds that made her pick my sister and my brave act to save her at my own expense? Or could she mean the odds that made her pick Gale and give Peeta the chance to volunteer to take his place? No, she had to mean the odds of how the capitol knew they could torture the Everdeen sisters no matter what we did. Whatever odds Effie was talking about, they were definitely not in my favor.

A loud knock at the door rouses me from my inner thoughts, a gruff voice announcing I have a visitor. I have enough time to brace myself before someone I did not expect came walking in. Gasping, my eyes widen at the sight of someone I swore hated me. "Mrs. Mellark? What are you doing here?" What was going on?

The woman known as Mrs. Mellark stalks up to me, a furious expression on her face. I resist the urge to back away from her as she approaches me. She is starting to frighten me as I force myself to stand my ground. Her steps stop once she reaches me, her angry blue eyes glaring into my grey ones. "Mrs. Mellark?" I ask carefully, not wanting to antagonize the viper of a woman. Without any warning, her hand draws back and a resounding smack echoes the room as she slaps me.

Clutching my cheek, I fight the tears that pool from the pain of her hit. What the hell? Did she just hit me? The throbbing pain from my cheek answers that. The other question is why. What the heck did I do to deserve to be slapped by the Bakery Witch? Well besides somehow getting her son to volunteer as tribute for Gale. Not even I knew the answer to that one. His actions were as big as a surprise to me as to everyone else.

"You little harlot!" Mrs. Mellark screeches, glaring hatefully at me. "Why you vile little Seam urchin. How could you make him do this? Hasn't your family caused enough trouble for us!" Her spiteful words hurt despite the insults I've heard from her a thousand times. It was no great secret that Mrs. Mellark hated my family, especially my mother. For what reason, I could not comprehend.

Wincing, I try my best to keep my voice calm despite the constant throb of pain from the slap. I was definitely going to be feeling that tomorrow. "I don't know what you are talking about, Mrs. Mellark." I lick my lips, fighting the urge to yell at her. "I didn't force Peeta to do anything. The reason for his actions is a mystery to me. I was unaware he was planning to volunteer. I haven't talked to him in months." Ok, that was kinda a lie. I might have not talked to him but according to Katniss, he has tried to talk to me.

"I don't care, you brat." She grabs my bare arm, her talons digging into my skin. I cry out in pain, not understanding why she is being so violent with me. "Now you listen to me, slut. You will swear to me that my son will come home to us. I don't care how many you have to kill to save him. You WILL make sure my son wins these games, even at the expense of your own life."

I swallow, fear gripping me as her words sink in. "Mrs. Mellark, I can't –"

"Swear it, Everdeen."

Her grip on my arm tightens, talons piercing my skin. I cry out from the renewed pain, tears threatening to spill as I force my lips to form words. "Please, Mrs. Mellark. Don't make me-"

A threatening smile crosses her lips as she leans forward to whisper in my ear. "Either swear to me Everdeen or I will make sure your little sister will not make it to the next sunrise. We wouldn't want that now, would we?" Her menacing tone frightens me to the bone, causes shivers to run up and down my spine. No. I will not let her hurt Prim.

Tears spill as I whisper my reply. "I swear to you on my life, Mrs. Mellark, Peeta will come home alive." I turn my head, shutting my eyes at my words. What did I just do? I just gave away my only chance to come home alive because Mrs. Mellark knew my one weakness. I would never go back on my word, no matter what. It was a trait I had inherited from my father much to my sister's dismay. Add in threats to my sister's life and I was a goner. Mrs. Mellark had me and she knew it.

She releases me, backing away with a triumphant sneer. "Thank you, my dear. And good luck to you." Without another word, she turns and leaves, slamming the door behind her.

My legs collapse from under me, no longer able to support my weight. What just happened? Did I just swear to Mrs. Mellark that I would do everything in my power to save Peeta? Tears streak my cheeks as I realize that I would probably have done that anyway even if she didn't make me swear. Despite Peeta's rejection of my affections, I cared too much about him to let him die. It didn't help that I wanted him to be with Katniss most desperately. I was even willing to give up my own life to make sure he came home to her.

It took several minutes to compose myself, not wishing for Prim to see me this weak. I was her strong older sister, never one to give in or back down. Heck, I got into more trouble than most of the boys from the Seam combined. Katniss would joke that trouble followed me everywhere I went. At this moment, I couldn't agree with her more. I seemed to have a knack at getting myself into situations that would bring me nothing but trouble.

I sigh, wiping away the last of the tears from my cheeks. Come on, Nightlock. Don't let the Bakery Witch get to you, I silently chant to myself. I couldn't let that viper of a woman know that she got to me. If she wanted me to save Peeta, then I would do it. Only, I will do it my way. I will show her the strength and confidence that comes with being an Everdeen girl. She will regret threatening Prim and the way she has treated us for all these years. I swear it.

A light knock alerts my attention to the door, making me hope it is my little sister finally come to say goodbye. As the door opens, I can't help but gasp at my second surprise visitor for the day. Was this surprise Nightlock day or something? I stare at the Peacekeeper, wondering why he of all people would visit me. I thought for sure he hated my guts. Maybe I was wrong.

The Peacekeeper known as Pierce glares hatefully in my direction, not willing to approach me. I raise an eyebrow in question, knowing that I was right. He really did hate me. However, that still doesn't explain why he is here. I try to find my voice, the shock of the situation disappearing. "Can I help you, Peacekeeper?" I ask quietly, knowing that he could snap at me at any moment. I could swear his hateful glare for me deepened. Was that even possible?

"No, girlie." He pauses, confusion flickering in his eyes before disappearing. "I just wanted to wish you luck." His gruff voice spoke volumes of how hard it was for him to say these words.

You have got to be kidding me. This Peacekeeper that surely hates me is offering me luck in the games? Has all of hell frozen over or a mutt taken this idiot's place? Knowing that both of those chances are extremely unlikely, I fidget under his glare. How does someone respond to such a shocking statement? I swallow, feeling the dryness in my throat at my nervousness. Should I say thank you?

"Well?" His question makes me jump, a small yelp escaping me. He smirks at my vulnerability, almost like he was happy to see make a fool of myself.

I groan quietly, not liking the gloating look in his eyes. If this day couldn't get any worse. Swallowing my pride, I tersely reply. "Thank you Peacekeeper." If he expected a long winded speech about gratitude from me, he has another thing coming. I refuse to appear weak in front of this pompous jerk.

He nods his head in acknowledge, almost amused at my words. A subtle smile tugs at his lips before disappearing. Is he making fun of me? Without another word, he turns and exits the room leaving me in shock. What the heck is that about?


	13. The Art of Forgiveness

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters. It is property of Suzanne Collins. _

_So I hope you guys don't hate me for the last chapter. It was short and not much happened but it was important for the story to continue. I originally planned for this all to be one chapter but decided to split it up. Exams are coming up again, so I will try to update as much as possible._

_Enjoy!_

_Italic means flashback_

**Chapter 13:**

**The Art of Forgiveness**

"Miss Everdeen?"

My head shoots up, focusing on Effie sitting across the table from me. Her concerned smile makes my skin crawl. How fake can this woman get? When you drop a bomb like that on a girl, you have to give her a second to grasp her bearings. Maybe that is too advanced of a concept for the colorful capitol peacock to understand. I timidly return her smile when I would rather launch myself across the table and strangle her. Would I get in trouble if I acted on these desires I've been feeling all day? Probably, with how my luck has been going today.

She cocks her head to the side, an idiotic smile replacing the concerned one. I suppress a groan as I recognize the twinkle in her eye. Is she really going to force me to say it? I rather eat a squirrel raw then speak those words to this sorry excuse of an escort. She has no right to ask me about my feelings, especially about my relationship with Peeta. Who cares what anyone contemplates about how Peeta feels about me. It is really none of their business.

"Miss Everdeen, are we going to resolve this matter or not? As your escort, I must know if there is anything that could affect your chances to engage sponsors and promote a positive image. I must confess, my heart stopped when Mr. Mellark volunteered and joined you on the stage. One volunteer in an outlying district is an honor but two. Oh my!" Effie fans herself, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

Don't kid yourself, peacock. I fight off the anger that threatens to overtake me with her words. Is that all we mean to her, an honorable event in her less than desirable appointment as the escort for District 12. I am not naïve to her motives. My memories of watching Katniss interact with her prove that. If she wants to pretend to be our friend, she can go right ahead. It doesn't mean I have to be nice about it.

Should I answer her or let her wait it out a little longer? If I don't answer her question now, I will have to tolerate her presence for a time longer. The thought of being trapped in this room with Effie for any insurmountable time makes me nauseous. I could hardly stand to be in her presence for a few seconds, let alone another hour. Well, that answers that question.

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to behave despite the anger coursing through me. "No, Effie. There is nothing between Mr. Mellark and myself." I reply quietly, licking my lips before continuing. "He went to school with my sister, occasionally talking to Prim and myself when we stopped by the bakery. That is the limit of our association." So I lied through my teeth. If this will get her off my back about Peeta volunteering, so be it. This is an issue between Peeta and me, not the people of Panem.

Effie is disappointed at my words, a frown marring her usual smiling face. Serves her right for sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. I refuse to fuel the rumor pools, allowing her to have the advantage of inside information about Peeta and myself. It is all a game to the people of the capitol. They cry for the tributes they love, scorn those they hate, and cheer for the underdog in the Games. If I am going to save Peeta, I will play whatever role they want to make sure he goes home alive on my terms. Only I will decide who is privy to this information, not Effie.

She nods her head, giving me a lackluster grin. "Alright, Ms. Everdeen. I believe that is all." She moves to stand, a dissatisfied look on her face. If there is any indication Effie wanted to ask me more, the disappoint radiating off her tells all. I resist the urge to roll my eyes as she motions with her hand for me to leave. Not wanting to chance a new round of questioning, I stand and quickly leave the compartment through the sliding doors behind her.

The train corridor is narrow, barely wide enough to fit two people. The inside is completely lined with doors, similar to the sliding one I just exited. The outside has a long line of rectangular paneled windows, allowing anyone walking through to catch glimpses of the quickly passing scenery. I gravitate slowly towards these windows, amazed at how different the outside world looks in comparison to District 12. A continuous line of mountains against the sun setting in the horizon fascinate me as we pass through. I lost track of which district we were in after 8, the glimpses of rivers and grassy fields starting to blur after a while.

My hand touches the cool glass, unable to feel the warmth or heat from the outside. The air inside the train is strictly regulated, keeping everything at room temperature with an occasional chill. The capitol never seizes to amaze me with their ability to control every little aspect of our lives. Would it kill them to allow an individual to feel hot or cold?

A sad smile graces my lips as I wish desperately that Prim could see these scenes before me. She would have loved seeing the mountains, which are unheard of in District 12. What a cruel gift to see such a beautiful sight before my untimely death in the games. I will keep my promise to Mrs. Mellark even if I have to break my little sister's heart in the process. Prim's cries for me still echo in my ears hours later, my parting words to her make my heart ache. Would my little sister ever forgive me?

_A little blonde torpedo launches herself into my arms the second the doors open, my mother and Gale following closely behind. Our little duck buries her head in my dress, her quiet sobs breaking my heart as I wrap my arms around her small form. My eyes catch my mother's angry expression and Gale's hardened resolve, causing my heart to break even more. This must be as hard for them as it is for me. Could my mother see that without giving me an accusing glare? Probably not._

_The accusation in her eyes hurts more than I thought. Katniss and I didn't alert her to our plans, not wishing to send her spiraling back down into the depression that held her prisoner for years. We only recently got her back, not wishing to lose her to suspicions and poorly derived hunches. Too bad we were right. Prim's named was called and I volunteered in her stead, saving our little sister when Katniss no longer could. If my mother despised me for protecting my little sister, I will bear the guilt happily. Better her anger at me then her heart wrenching cries for her youngest daughter._

_Prim tugs on my dress, making me break eye contact with Mother. I smile down at my little sister, her presence the only thing preventing me from losing it completely. My nerves are shot at this point. Volunteering has taken everything out of me along with the knowledge of Peeta taking Gale's place. The guilt I feel at Mrs. Mellark's retorts about my being responsible for Peeta's actions won't leave me. Would this hellish day ever end?_

"_Lock, why did you do it?" Prim asks quietly, tears brimming in her eyes as she looks up at me. Her tears make me ache, helping me to push away the depressive thoughts. I guess I can bare this hell a little longer for Primrose, even if it kills me. Her question throws me for a loop, the response too complicated for me to explain easily._

_How can I tell her that she means the world to Katniss and me? That we would do anything to protect her, even give up our very lives? The answer is I couldn't. There is no easy way to explain to my little sister that she means more to us than ourselves. I sigh, ruffling her hair in an attempt to distract her. Her annoyed expression causes me to laugh, although it sounded forced to my ears. "Well little duck, I would do anything for you." I whisper, not able to choke out anymore. _

_I can tell Prim isn't satisfied with my answer. She has always been too smart for her age, able to grasp adult concepts quicker than I ever could. She gives me a weak smile, tears streaking her cheeks as she clutches me to her. I stroke her hair, mindful of her braids, unable to say anything else. What is there to say besides goodbye?_

"_Promise me you will come back, Nightlock. Just like Katniss did." Her pleading tone plunges a knife through my heart. She is asking for the one thing I can't give her. I already promised to bring Peeta home. How can I promise to come home when we all know there is only one victor?_

_Pulling Prim tightly to me, I bury my face in her hair and refuse to answer. I refuse to lie to my little sister. This last memory of us together will not be tainted with lies and deceit. I will not do that to her or myself. Primrose deserves the truth from me, even if it will hurt her. "I can't promise that, Prim." I mumble, not wanting Gale to hear my answer._

_Prim tenses up at my words, her head shaking in denial. I pull away from her, anxious to observe her facial expressions. The knife is plunged deeper as I take in her horrified eyes and quivering lips, the word no repeated soundlessly as blue meets gray. I reach out to touch Prim's cheek, my entire body aching to comfort her. "Prim…" _

_The knife plunged completely through as she steps away from me, denial overcoming her features. She shakes her head, tears littering her cheeks. "No, Nightlock. Don't touch me." She replies quietly, her body shaking as she tries to contain her sobs. My hand drops at her words, shame and regret flooding through me._

"_I'm sorry, Primrose." I turn away from her, my fists clenched at my sides as I fight the urge to run over and embrace her. Why is this so hard for us? Prim is everything to me. To see her in pain because of me is unbearable. This is not what I meant to do when I told her the truth. _

_The sound of footsteps walking away from me causes me to turn. I turn quickly, catching sight of Mother and Prim leaving the room. Not wanting Prim to leave with those being the last words between us, I call to her. "Prim!" _

_Prim turns to look at me, pain flickering in her eyes. She doesn't speak, although the cold look I get from Mother says it all. She doesn't want me to say anything else to my little sister. Well tough luck for her. I have never listened to her before and I don't plan to now. I lick my lips, sorrow coating my words. "For what it's worth Prim, I love you. Never forget that."_

_New tears escape Prim as she pulls away from Mother and runs into my arms sobbing. I hold her close, kissing the top of her head as she mumbles in reply. "I love you too, Lock." Stroking her hair, I smile despite my only tears that are threatening to fall. _

"_I will always be with you Prim. Forever."_

A hand on my shoulder brings me back to reality. I turn quickly, wondering who caught me daydreaming in front of the windows. My eyes widen as I recognize Peeta, his stern eyes studying mine with the familiar lopsided grin on his face. I gasp in surprise, stepping away from him unconsciously. "Peeta?" My uncertain tone spoke volumes, trying to grasp why Peeta would approach me now of all times.

He scratches the back of his head with his hand, the sternness leaving his features as his eyes glimmer with mirth. Peeta laughs uneasily, the lopsided grin still there. "Guess I got you, Miss Everdeen?" His teasing words send warm shivers down my spine, a blush flooding my cheeks.

Unable to find the right words, I nod my head in reply. A nervous laugh escapes me as my eyes concentrate on his lips, wondering what it would feel like to have them touch mine. My eyes widen at this train of thought, causing me to back further away from Peeta as I turn back to look out the window. What the hell is wrong with me?

I know exactly what is wrong with me and it is all Gale's fault. If he didn't have to comfort me after Prim and Mother left, I wouldn't be in this mess. It is his fault for getting all these silly ideas into my head. I shake my head, trying not to let the memory of him leaning down…

"_Goldilocks?" _

_Gale's voice rouses me from my dark thoughts about my goodbye to Prim. I turn towards him, surprised he is still here when the rest of my family has already left. A frown mars my face, wondering what he could possibly have to say to me. "Yeah Gale?" I reply softly, not having the strength to come up with a funny or biting retort. After everything that has happened today, can anyone blame me for being tired?_

"_Are you ok, Lock?" Gale asks a concerned expression on his face. He reaches out to touch my arm, taking a few steps towards my shaking frame. I hadn't realized I have been shaking much to my surprise. At his touch, the last bit of strength in me leaves as I collapse. His arms wrap around me, preventing me from getting up close and personal with the floor._

_I give him a wry grin, knowing I must look tired to him. I felt tired. "I'm fine, Gale. Just tired. It has been a long day." My legs are unsteady, not able to support my weight completely on their own. I lean against his chest, finding the familiar sound of his heartbeat comforting. To think that he could be heading towards the same fate as me, a tribute in the 74__th__ Annual Hunger Games. The thought sends unwelcome shivers down my spine. _

"_It would have killed me, Gale." I murmur quietly, not having the strength to speak anything above a whisper. _

"_What would have killed you, Nightlock?" _

_It takes me a minute but I find the strength to look up at Gale. His eyes are concerned, the unspoken question lingering in them that has haunted me for the last few months. I lick my lips, whispering. "It would have killed me if you were a tribute too, Gale. I don't think I could have hurt you in the games." The knowledge that I wouldn't have ever been able to hurt or even kill Gale in the games weighed heavily on me. I felt the same way about Peeta. How am I going to be able to kill anyone? It makes me wonder how Katniss was able to do it._

_An unfamiliar emotion flickers in Gale's eyes as tears escape me. I didn't have the ability to hold them back anymore. Gale has seen me at my worst and more. This is nothing to him when he has seen me lethargic and barely there after having my heart broken by Peeta. It is only after seeing him today at the Reaping that I realize I still care a lot for Peeta, even if he broke my heart. Did this mean that I couldn't have feelings for Gale too?_

_Gazing up into Gale's familiar gray eyes so much like my own, I realize I care greatly maybe even love him. Is it possible that Gale might feel the same way? The thought of finding love as I head off towards my death is a bittersweet notion. Who would want to love someone that is as good as dead? Gale is smarter than that. Plus he had his pick of women from the Seam, including my older sister Katniss. _

_I attempt to look away from his smoldering gaze, not liking the direction my thoughts were leading. Gale's hand reaches up to cup my face and forces me to look at me. My eyes widen as I realize Gale is leaning down towards me, his eyes concentrated on my own. I swallow nervously, my bottom lip quivering in anticipation as his head dips down close to mine. _

_His warm breath mingles with mine, his lips close enough to touch. "It would kill me too, Goldilocks…It is killing me now." He whispers quietly, allowing his words to sick in before pressing his lips against my own. My eyes flutter closed at the contact, my entire body humming at the warm feelings as I remain frozen under him. His hand strokes my cheek as his other arm snakes around my waist and pulls me flush against him. I gasp against his lips, feeling him deepen the kiss and ignite a fire within me that I never knew existed. _

_Before I can even think to respond, Gale breaks contact and pulls away. My heart is beating erratically as a blush floods my cheeks under the heat of his gaze. That is my first kiss. My first kiss with Gale…_

…leaning down to kiss me. Damn you, Gale. Why did you have to do that? My hand unconsciously touches my lips, gray eyes settling on the red and orange stained horizon. That was my first kiss and I don't know what to think of it. Did I love Gale? It is a very real possibility. I sneak a glance at Peeta, his eyes studying me curiously. A blush stains my cheeks as I look away, my heart racing at the thought of Peeta doing the same thing. Did I also love Peeta?

A sorrowful sigh escapes me, my eyes focusing on the sunset in front of me. It didn't matter what I felt at the moment. Nothing mattered except for the first time today, I felt at peace. For the first time in a long time, I am able to let go and just relax for a heartbeat before the real trials began. Tomorrow, we would arrive at the capitol and that is where the real battle would begin. My battle to bring Peeta home alive.

_Don't kill me! Let me know what you think!_


	14. The Train Ride

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters. It is property of Suzanne Collins. _

_Well I am trying my best to update on a regular basis. The story is just starting to get interesting with their arrival at the capitol but first some minor comic relief. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 14:**

**The Train Ride**

"What are you thinking about, Lock?" Katniss implores, a hint of a smile gracing her painted lips. Grey eyes dance with mirth, knowing exactly what is on my mind. All Kit-Kat has to do is take one look at what I'm wearing and she knows I am plotting the demise of our escort, Effie Trinket.

The capitol peacock managed to get her hands on us earlier this morning, donning Katniss and myself in matching outfits of blue. Kit-Kat looks beautiful in a short sleeved dark blue dress, cinched at the waist and ending at her knees. Dark blue shadow with a hint of glitter around her cheek bones help to emphasize the black choker around her neck. Luckily for Katniss, her hair is up in an elegant bun. I on the other-hand look ridiculous in the bright blue combo that our escort picked out for me. Her excuse for the short dress that looks like it was made for a child is to help highlight my image.

I could kick myself for asking Effie what image she has chosen to portray me in. The memory of the sardonic grin on her face as she explains that she is playing up my sex appeal with a child-like innocence makes me ill. How the hell does she come up with these ideas? The little baby doll dress with a matching cinched waist to Katniss's barely covers my upper thighs. A matching black choker is stifling as I resist the urge to detangle the curls Effie put in my hair. Wide grey eyes stare back at me in the mirror from the doll-like little girl, helping to reinforce my hatred for our escort. It is official. I am going to kill the capitol peacock.

"I look ridiculous, Kit-Kat!" I whine, wanting nothing more than to tear the dress to shreds. My growing hatred for dresses is legendary. Ever since I destroyed the pink frilly concoction our mother managed to force me into during one of our training sessions, Katniss has found amusement in my discomfort. The memory of her laughter while Mother lectured me about ruining the dress brings a smile to my lips.

Katniss suppresses a laugh, trying not to be amused by my childlike behavior. It is rare for me to let go around others, especially my family. Living in the Seam makes us all grow up fast. Remaining a child is a luxury that none of us can afford. "It is not that bad, Nightlock." Kit-Kat chokes out, the laughter in her eyes telling me she is lying.

Raising my eyebrow in question, I try to resist the urge to glare at her. I fail miserably, my annoyance at her amusement evident in my expression. If Katniss can't keep a straight face while looking at me, I fear what Peeta's reaction will be. Would he laugh while giving me that lopsided smile of his? With an exaggerated groan, I collapse into the chair in front of the vanity. When will the torture of this train ride end?

"Ok, maybe it is that bad." Katniss whispers, resting a hand on my shoulder. I look up at her, horror overtaking me at the thought of walking outside the room dressed like this. Katniss squeezes my shoulder, a sincere smile on her face. "As long as you wear the look proudly, no one will say anything. Remember little sister, image is about attitude." Her voice takes on an uppity tone, almost mimicking Effie's perfectly. "Image is the way to win their hearts, Miss Everdeen. Act like you own the look and they will love you."

Neither of us can maintain a straight face as we break out in laughter. Leave it to my sister to find a way to cheer me up. I realize then that I have missed my older sister. Although I see her almost every day, it has been a long time since we have interacted like this. Did the games really change her that much? No, the last time I can remember Katniss like this is before Father died. How did I never notice that my sister left us that day along with our father? I mourn the loss of them both and can only hope that my Kit-Kat will continue to come back to me.

A knock on the door gains our attention as a half-way drunken Haymitch strolls in. I shake my head in disgust, wondering if he is planning to have a repeat performance on the train platform. If he is planning to sabotage Peeta's and my chance of surviving the games, he is doing an awesome job. How Katniss can stand mentoring with him is beyond me. I have tried to like Haymitch but his drunken tendencies piss me off.

"Hello, Katniss. Sweettart. Don't we look spiffy this morning?" Haymitch slurs, a conceited smirk on his face. Haymitch might have been handsome once but the drink has taken its toll on his looks. He might become a decent guy if he lay off the drink, now that I think about it. Knowing how stubborn Haymitch can be, I highly doubted that would happen anytime soon.

Glaring at my drunken mentor, I resist the urge to deck him. How did I go from sweetheart to sweettart? Did Haymitch want me to kill him or just patronize me as some form of revenge? First Effie forces me into this doll dress, than Haymitch decides to push me further. I need to get off this train ride from hell. "Go away, Haymitch." I retort, not in the mood to deal with his insults or drunken antics.

"Oh come now, Miss Everdeen. Kat got your tongue?" He mocks, his eyes showing a moment of clarity in their glee. Did Haymitch even know what sober felt like?

Before I can reply, Katniss stops me with a hand on the shoulder. Her strong grip indicates for me to let it go. Haymitch's pun is at her, not me. I frown distastefully at Haymitch, not liking that he is resorting to back handed comments at us to show his hatred towards me. I know now more than ever that Haymitch will be of no use to me during the games. If he could have his way, I would be dead the minute I enter the arena.

"Enough of that, you two." Katniss states, a stern tone to her voice. "We are to meet Effie and Mr. Mellark in the dining area." My face flushes from my embarrassment, not liking that Katniss has to scold me to behave. I have to grow up if I want to accomplish my task in these games, with or without Haymitch's help.

"Yes, Kit-Kat." I reply meekly, trying to show how sorry I am for acting like a child. Even if I am dressed like some kiddy prostitute, I refuse to embarrass Katniss further. Standing, I turn to glance one last time in the mirror at my appearance. I wince at the hopeless image staring back, knowing I don't have a lot to work with. If I want to be someone Katniss is proud of, I need to be able to handle anything the capitol throws at me, especially dresses.

Turning back to look at Katniss, I realize she is already at the door waiting for me with Haymitch. Smiling sheepishly at them, I walk unsteadily forward in the black heeled knee-high boots Effie forced me into. "What's the hold up? I'm starving!" I enthusiastically lie, hoping the change in topic will ease the tension still lingering in the room. Katniss's responding smile and Haymitch's snarky grin remind me that I need to get off this train as soon as possible.


	15. The Capitol

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games and anything from the novels is attributed to its author._

_So far the regular update thing has been working. I have written a small interlude/side story to Nightlock that features Primrose as the main character called Happy Birthday Primrose. And without further adieu, we finally reach the capitol. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 15:**

**The Capitol**

Breakfast should have been a light hearted affair for me. Instead, it ends up becoming quite an embarrassing nightmare. The minute I step into the room behind Kit-Kat and Haymitch, the capitol peacock pounces on me. Effie Trinket, the capitol peacock, extortionist extraordinaire, is grinning triumphantly as she stalks towards me. I shift nervously under her gleeful stare, noticing that everyone is watching our little exchange. How I hate this escort for setting me up like this. Effie reaches me as I stare defiantly at her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of my humiliation. I refuse to play her stupid games.

"Miss Everdeen, you look adorable!" She exclaims, her high pitched cry grating my nerves. How anyone could stand to be around this woman is a mystery to me. I barely see her most of the time and I want to run from the room screaming right now.

If looks could kill, Effie would be lying dead there on the spot. I glare hatefully at her, not able to hide my disgust and loathing for the artificial creature in front of me. "I. Do. Not. Look. Adorable." I growl through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to smack that grin off her face. Adorable is not a word I like being associated with. It should only be in use when describing little children or animals, like Buttercup. "I look ridiculous!"

Effie's triumphant grin becomes an annoyed pout. "Come now, Miss Everdeen. There is nothing wrong with how you look." Effie states, a pleased smirk forming as she speaks. Her eyes dart around as if looking for someone as they settle on Peeta Mellark. "If you are that concerned my dear, let us ask someone what they think. Mr. Mellark?" She practically purrs his name as she awaits his answer.

Peeta looks like he just swallowed a lemon as he stares warily at the capitol peacock. He smiles faintly as he calmly asks, "Yes, Miss Trinket?" I could tell that he wished that he could run from the room screaming too.

"Doesn't Miss Everdeen look adorable?" She exaggerates my name, a victorious smile overtaking her. As those words leave her lips, I wish with every bone in my body that the floor would open up and swallow me whole. This is not happening. This can't be happening.

I have to give Peeta Mellark some credit. Instead of paling and stuttering out a response to Effie's words like I would, he slowly looks me up and down with a lazy smirk. I blush under his scrutiny as I try to wrap my head around the situation. What the hell is happening right now? Did Peeta Mellark just check me out? There is no way Peeta just did that. After his little once over, Peeta winks at me. He winked at me! Well damn, looks like he did.

Peeta turns to Effie, his eyes lingering on me a moment longer than necessary and confidently states, "Miss Everdeen doesn't look adorable."

My heart plummets at his words much to my surprise. Did I want him to find me adorable? Maybe my feelings for Peeta are starting to blur my priorities. This thought scares me. More than I would like to admit. I couldn't go into the games distracted if I wanted to get Peeta out alive. Although I have to say it hurts to know he doesn't find me adorable. What is wrong with me? As I debate the inner workings of my contradicting mind, Peeta continues speaking without my notice.

"Miss Everdeen looks beautiful." Peeta murmurs softly, his eyes settling on me. Amusement flickers in his eyes as that lopsided smile of his forms. It seems he is amused by how red my cheeks have gotten. How can he make me blush so easily? Does Peeta Mellark know how much he affects me?

How should I respond to such a statement? Do I say thank you or shove off since I don't want to give the peacock any satisfaction. My head is hurting from overthinking this entire time and all I want to do is sit down. Sighing in an exaggerated matter, I smile kindly at Peeta. "Thank you, Mr. Mellark." Peeta nods his head in acknowledgement before I switch my gaze to the gloating peacock.

"I still hate this outfit, Miss Trinket." I protest, a rewarding fulfillment overtaking me as I watch her smile deflate. If she thinks she has won this round, Miss Trinket is lacking in more intelligence than I thought. I refuse to yield to her and will fight her tooth and nail until the end of the games. Not like anyone knows what happens behind closed doors.

"Miss Everdeen, please. You are wearing this outfit and that is final." Effie's uppity tone sounds distressed, much to my approval. It seems I ruffled her feathers with my disobedience. Good. The peacock needs to learn that not everyone will bend to her every whim.

Deciding that I have dragged this issue out longer than necessary, I fake a look of remorse. "I am sorry Miss Trinket. I will wear the dress." Her gloating smile returns, much to my personal amusement. Just wait you overstuffed bird. I'm not done with you yet.

"Oh good!" She clasps her hands in glee, her eyes shining with triumph. Wait for it. Wait for it. "Now that Miss Everdeen is happy, we can eat before we reach the capitol." The peacock exclaims, indicating to the table behind them piled with food. Got you.

"Effie, I said I would wear the dress." I speak slowly, a smirk gracing my lips as I continue. "I never said I liked the stupid thing." Watching her happiness plummet gives me the upmost pleasure. Take that you stupid bird. Effie 0, Nightlock 1

Haymitch clears his throat, sensing an incoming outburst from the colorful bird. He gives me a drunken glare, almost daring me to continue. I smile guiltily at him, knowing that I might have gone a little too far in arguing with Effie. Looks like I also made a very good enemy in Haymitch at the same time. I am screwed for the games unless Katniss can work her magic and get me sponsors. With my luck, that is never going to happen.

Peeta gives me a comforting smile, his eyes flickering with mirth. Oh great, even Peeta is making fun of me now. I need to get off this train! Katniss seems to realize my distress and walks over, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Giving her a weak smile, I lean against my older sister and sigh in gratitude. Kit-Kat is always there for me, even when I don't know I need her.

Our escort has taken this time to recover and greets us with a pleasant smile. Is the peacock bipolar? I stare at her in dismay, not able to understand how she did that. Maybe the peacock is naïve or blind enough to deny any of that just happened. If this is the case, I have my work cut out for me. Denial can be a very powerful thing.

With an ushering gesture from Effie, everyone sits down to eat. Katniss convinces me to try the hot chocolate, advising that the sweet liquid can be very addicting. I can't help agreeing as I down two cups, much to her delight. Peeta follows my example, going through three of them before stopping. I guess we can agree on something about the capitol. This chocolaty sweet liquid is absolutely wonderful. Maybe I could get Katniss to promise to take some back for Prim to try. She would love this stuff.

Haymitch studies my expressions throughout the meal, eyeing each move I make, bite I take, or words I speak with skepticism. I could tell he trusted me as far as he could throw me. Not that I could blame the drunk. We never did give each other any indication that either of us was trustworthy. Would I be able to find a way to change this? Maybe he would help me if he knew my plan to help Peeta win. He would probably encourage me, having little regard for me or my short life. I am unsure whether this would be a good thing or a bad thing.

Peeta barely speaks to me the entire time, almost avoiding eye contact fully. Did Effie's question make him uncomfortable? From my point of view, Peeta seems to have enjoyed scrutinizing my very innocently suggestive outfit. His mother would have sneered at me, gleeful that Peeta would finally see me for my true colors in her opinion. The witch of a woman did call me a harlot and sea urchin, whatever that is. This outfit did compliment the description

I take this downtime to observe what Peeta is wearing. Shockingly, it compliments my outfit in color and style. He dons a blue dress shirt the same color of my dress that brings out the vibrant shade of his eyes. The first three buttons are undone, showing a tantalizing bit of skin from his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, giving him a more casual look. Black jeans cling to his legs as they disappear under the table. I can't tell what shoes he is wearing although I believe they are more comfortable then my boots. Overall, he looks very handsome.

Blood floods my cheeks as I look away, realizing I have been staring at him for a few minutes. Haymitch catches my eye and smirks wickedly, winking at me. Laughter escapes him as my blush deepens, our little interaction gaining Katniss's attention. She looks inquisitive; trying to discern what has me all riled up. I shake my head, giving her a weak smile as Haymitch's drunken laughter continues. How I hate him right now.

Effie seems to take our laughter as a cue that we are finished, clearing her throat loudly to gain our attention. I glance in the general direction of the peacock, not in the mood to watch her little dramatic display. Her cheerful and annoyingly high voice reaches my ears as I focus on the disappearing nature that gives way to stone.

"Welcome. Welcome." Effie declares, smiling happily as she addresses us. "Welcome to the Capitol, tributes. May the odds be ever in your favor." She gestures behind her, my eyes catching the tall structures and buildings that make up the Capitol.

The Capitol is a sight to behold. The power that this place has over us is easy to see. Everything is shiny, polished, almost gleaming in its expanse. Building taller than trees start to surround the train on both sides as we enter the Capitol. Advanced technology can be seen everywhere with a gleaming poster of President Snow hanging from a building. What a cold and powerful place to live.

The train's speed begins to slow as Peeta and I stand to see outside better. Peeta walks over to the window, the wonder on his face tugging at me. His lips form a smile as he waves to the passing citizens who cheer and wave back as they notice him. They must have been expecting us, wishing to catch a glimpse of the two volunteering tributes from District 12.

I step behind Peeta, fear gripping me as the Capitol crowd increases in number as we enter the train station. So many people that want to meet us. Meet us in order to decide whether they should help us live or leave us to die in the Hunger Games. A cold shiver down my spine causes me to grip Peeta's arm, wondering if I really will be able to pull off my plan. The Capitol seems to love him as he smiles and waves at them in his excitement. Maybe that will be enough.

Peeta stops waving and glances back at me, that lopsided smile of his making my heart skip a beat. He reaches up and takes my hand in his own, squeezing it as he traces circles on the back. I can't help but blush and smile back, wondering why he can reassure me with a simple action. Just looking into those blue eyes strengthens my resolve. This plan will work. I can only hope he can forgive me and go along with it until I must force him to kill me.

I squeeze his hand in return as we both turn to the crowd, waving at them with smiles on our faces. We are bonded on our mutual obligation to be in these Games. If I want Peeta to survive the 74th Annual Hunger Games, I must use this bond to the fullest. Even if I have to break my heart in the process and manipulate Peeta to hate me, I will make sure he wins. I feel a tear escape me as I force the smile to remain on my face. I am sorry Peeta. Please forgive me one day.

May the odds be ever in Peeta's favor.


	16. The Makeover

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games and anything from the novels is attributed to its author._

_Sorry that it has been a while since I updated. Exams and school got in the way of writing with a minor case of writer's block. Now I will try to get back to the regular updates. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 16**

**The Makeover**

If I ever get my hands on Katniss, I am going to make her wish she was dead. I can understand her being forced away from us due to mentor duties but I did not expect my older sister to ditch us. Haymitch is a perfect example of someone almost guaranteed to desert you. He is an expert at disappearing by making himself scarce, which he does the minute we dock. Katniss on the other hand pretends to follow us inside before hightailing it out of there. One minute my sister is speaking to a whiskered man and the next she is walking briskly away from us as fast as she can. Traitor.

Before ditching us and after docking at the train station, Katniss escorts us from the train to a long white platform that overlooks a tall ivory building. People walk casually up and down the walkway connecting the two in brightly colored outfits, speaking quietly amongst themselves. I find the sight discomforting, almost as if the people were walking pictures we are to admire but not interact with. What kind of life did the people of the capitol live?

Peeta grasps my hand in his own, alarming me out of my thoughts. I glance up to take in his comforting smile as he squeezes my hand reassuringly. How does Peeta know that I need reassurance? I am beginning to wonder if he has some kind of mind reading power that I don't know about. The likelihood of this actually being true is slim. Not knowing what else to do, I return his smile cautiously as I release his hand.

Distance between us is necessary. If we are to grow close, it will become harder and harder for me to hurt him in the end. I need him to be able to hate me, to be able to take my life. There is only one victor in the Hunger Games. Neither of us can afford for that to be me. I am determined to do everything in my power to make sure Peeta is the last one standing in that arena.

Quickening my pace to match Katniss's, I keep step with my sister as we silently cross the walkway. I try not to notice the walking pictures pointing and whispering about us as we pass. Do these idiots have anything better to do then talk about us? I suppress my urge to glare at them and keep my eyes trained on my heeled boots as we continue forward. I almost forgot about the provocative outfit the peacock forced me into. Maybe this is the reason for their annoying chatter.

"They must be whispering about the two lovely ladies I am with." Peeta exclaims quietly, his arms coming to casually rest over our shoulders as he leans forward. That lopsided grin that makes my heart flip and flop around in my chest is back. He could kill someone with that if he isn't careful. I am completely sure that that someone is me. Do I ever get a break?

Deciding on a more childish reaction, I stick my tongue out at him while Katniss stiffens next to me. My older sister isn't one for physical affection or touching in any manner. I watch her turn to glare at Peeta, almost daring him to allow his arm to remain on her shoulder. I try not to laugh as Peeta's grin slips away making him look like a hurt puppy whose favorite bone is being taken away. Who knows what is running through that boy's head as his arm drops from Katniss's shoulders. Much to my annoyance, his arm around my shoulders remains.

I roll my shoulder and try to squirm out from under him as his grip on me tightens. I am beginning to believe that Peeta's life goal is to send me to an early grave. All the flips, flops, and frantic beating he puts my heart through will surely kill me. That is if I don't get myself killed first. If I could pick the person in the capitol most likely to want me dead, Haymitch and Snow would be at the top of my list. My talent for pissing people off has these two out for my blood. Maybe Peeta won't have to end up killing me in the games after all.

"Peeta, get off." I mutter, shooting him an annoyed glare as we reach the ivory building. I subtly try to move away from Peeta, hoping he won't notice my actions.

Luck never being on my side, he notices right away. Arching a brow in my direction, he lets his arm over my shoulders drop. However, he grabs my hand immediately and pulls me close against him. Blood floods my cheeks as I stare unbelievingly at him. What the heck is going through that head of his?

Katniss suppresses a giggle as she watches us with an amused smile. Shit, just what I need at this moment, more ammo for Kit-Kat to use against me for my _supposed _crush on Peeta.

I am very close to losing it right now after all that has happened in the last two days. After volunteering for Prim, Gale kissing me, Effie torturing me, and my feelings for Peeta going haywire, I've had enough. How much more can a girl take? I suddenly feel tired, more exhausted then I have ever felt in my entire life. Is this what it feels like to be emotionally and physically drained?

Peeta seems to notice the change in me as he releases his hold on me. His hand still grips mine firmly, dragging me forward as we walk inside. "You ok, Nightlock?" He whispers, concern laced in his voice. Am I that transparent?

Biting my bottom lip, I contemplate how to answer that question. If I really thought about it, I am far from ok at the moment. I want nothing more than to run away from all of them and forget any of this ever happened. However, this is not an option. I volunteered to be here, willingly. I am obligated to see it through unless I want to see my little sister killed for my disobedience. I swore to get Peeta out of the games alive and I never break my promises. I am definitely not ok.

Knowing anything I say will be I lie, I decide to go with the truth. "No, Peeta." I reply, pausing a second to lick my lips. "I will be though." My words sound unsure even to my ears. There is no way he is going to believe me. A hard reassuring squeeze from Peeta is my answer. Nope. He does not believe a word I said.

"Nigh-"

His words are cut off as a blue haired whiskered man with sparkles around his eyes walks up to us. Katniss nods to him and walks forward to greet him. I watch the two shake hands before beginning a whispered heated debate with hand gestures. The whiskered man points to me twice, frowning the first time and smiling triumphantly the second time. His presence reminds me of a certain capitol peacock and how she always seems to get her way.

Speaking of said peacock, a shrill laugh rings through our ears as I spot her approaching Katniss and whisker man. She seems right at home in this place as she greets the whisker man like old friends. I shiver unconsciously at the thought of any man knowing Effie Trinket so intimately. Nausea grips me as I try not to let my imagination run wild with that concept. Too late. Disgusting images involving Effie and whisker man assault me as I try not to lose my breakfast in front of Peeta. This day definitely sucks.

Effie notices us watching them and ushers us over a wave of her hand. Peeta and I glance at each other, wondering what horrors the three people have in store for us. Neither of us have any illusions that whatever they are discussing involves anything pleasant. Nothing but fashion, torture, and the prospect of attention makes Effie look that happy. Peeta shrugs his shoulders, giving me the impression he is ready for anything as I smile grimly in return.

We casually walk over to where the three of them are waiting, trying our best not to appear nervous in front of them. First lesson when dealing with a predator, do not show fear. They can smell it and will use it against you if they can. Peeta squeezes my hand, reminding me that he has been holding it this entire time. I quickly pull my hand away, not wanting to be distracted by him when we confront our tormentors.

I give Katniss an annoyed stare as we reach them, hoping she can give me some insight on what to expect. A knowing smile is my reply, her grey eyes sparkling with mirth as she watches me squirm. Well my sister is no help. Why do I have the sinking feeling that I just dug my own grave? Glancing from the peacock to whisker man, this feeling only strengthens as I take in their identical calculating smiles.

"Ms. Everdeen. Mr. Mellark. I would like you to meet Leonard Felis, one of the most renown stylists in Panem." Effie twitters excitedly, her eyes glimmering with admiration. The queasy feeling in my stomach returns as images of them together assault me once more. She definitely has the hots for them. I bow my head in greeting, not having the strength to stomach words through my nausea.

"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Felis." Peeta replies, a friendly smile on his face. No matter how nervous Peeta gets, he always appears confident and friendly to those around him. Is Peeta that charismatic naturally or after years of practice back home? This is a question that will probably never be answered unless I ask him directly.

"Please call me Leonard," whisker man states, a triumphant grin spreading across his lips. He claps his hands together quickly, signaling a horde of brightly haired and colored people to come running from behind closed doors.

I watch them all warily, not having a good feeling about this. "Who are all these people?"

Whisker man settles his eyes on me, a knowing smirk forming. "They are your stylists, my dear. Welcome to the capitol!"

I glance quickly in Katniss's direction, noticing her making a quick escape. Her brisk walk away from us tells me all I need to know. I am about to be picked, plucked, primed, waxed, shaved, pulled, brushed, smothered, and tortured by a team of stylists for the next few hours along with Peeta. All of this in preparation for our presentation tonight in front of all of Panem.

Katniss Everdeen, I am going to kill you.


	17. The Chariot Parade

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games and anything from the novels is attributed to its author._

_My attempt at keeping regular updates continues. The real action is about to start with more reference to the original storyline. Remember looks and actions can be deceiving! Enjoy!_

**Chapter 17**

** The Chariot Parade**

"You are now officially beautified, Ms. Everdeen." Effie chirps happily, clapping her hands in excitement. She stalks me in a circle, examining every inch of my appearance with her scrutinizing eyes. I am only a valuable toy to her, something to be maintained and shown off for others to admire. Does she even care about what I think? Not that I am actually thinking of anything besides my sudden urge to choke that long neck of hers with my newly manicured fingers. It is her fault that I am in this situation right now. Well her and those damn stylists….

_First, the stylists took me down to Beauty Level 0. What is Beauty Level 0 exactly? It means that they primed, plucked, waxed, shaved, scrubbed, and drowned me with water until my skin shone with a healthy glow or blazed red where they ripped whatever hair they could find off. They tell me that I am to be their white canvas, a starting point to work their magic on. What does that even mean?_

_These hours are pure torture, trying my patience to the maximum. Every time I try to ask them whether I am done, the annoying male of the three would douse me with more water or pluck some invisible hair they hadn't found yet in answer. I slowly become desperate for air, tired of swallowing water every five minutes. My hatred for being under their torturous treatment is ebbed once they inform me I am being taken to Cinna. If I never see a brush or hose again, I will die happy. _

_The names of my three tormentors escape me during this time although my nicknames for them stick hours later. Mouse is the one I could tolerate the best, her blue hair complementing her quiet personality. She is the least ridiculous looking of the bunch, with minor tattoos on her face and pink peeking out beneath her shiny silver coat. Pinky is the more outrageous looking of the two girls, her bright pink hair giving me a headache every time I look at her. She has tattoos all over her face with purple stars on her cheeks and green sparkles around her eyes. While Mouse is pink, Pinky has purple with blue trim fabric that peeks out from beneath her shiny coat. The bane of my existence and worst of the three, Frog, has green hair with green tattoos littering his face. The green fabric of his shirt peeks out beneath the shiny coat each time he sprays me with water._

_Frog thankfully has Mouse escort me to a sealed room where she instructs me to lay down and wait. The dull gray of the walls and beauty torture devices on the table next to the metal bed do little to alleviate my annoyance. Mouse smiles apologetically at me, wishing me luck with Cinna as she closes the door behind her. Despite the dullness of it, I enjoy the peace and dryness the room offers after spending the last several hours being tortured and doused in water by Frog. The sealed room is a welcome break from my frivolous tormentors of fashion and beauty._

_A darker skinned man with piercings greets me a while later as he walks in. Surprisingly, Cinna is underwhelming when compared to Mouse, Pinky, and Frog, who I later learn are his assistants and my prep team. He treats me like a person with shaking my hand and asking me how my sister Katniss is. This catches me by surprise since Katniss never mentioned anyone named Cinna. I shrug, asking how he knows my sister. His secretive smile puts me on guard while his next question catches me off guard._

"_What do you think of fire?" Cinna politely asks a mysterious glint in his eyes as he studies me. It feels like he is examining me, not in the scrutinizing way Effie loves, but to test me. He might want to see whether I am worthy of his creations or designs. Is it either that or whether I am anything like my older sister Kit-Kat., meaning he is about to be terribly disappointed._

_My response is a wry grin and questioning glare. "Why? Thinking of setting me on fire?" I reply sarcastically, annoyance evident in my tone. What kind of idiot did they assign to be my stylist? Being a tribute from 12 meant that our district usually got the worst of the lot. Despite Katniss's recent victory, District 12 is still the laughing stock of Panem. _

"_What if I am?" Cinna implies, mirth lurking beneath his cool exterior. He leans back in his chair, his hands locking around the knee crossed over his left leg. Cinna's posture is relaxed, almost waiting to see what kind of reaction he can arise out of me._

_Shockingly, my voice is calm when I speak despite my erratic heartbeat. "You have got to be kidding me. I was just joking!" I exclaim, outrage reverberating through my words. Is this idiot trying to kill me? My thoughts and fears are confirmed. The capitol has it out for me._

_Cinna's face becomes serious as he studies me. "I am not joking, Nightlock" He retorts, a cunning grin overtaking him. "There is a fire in you that remind me of your sister, our Girl on Fire. She wears this power like armor, allowing it to shield her from the capitol's cruelty. You have the potential to do the same. Why not let everyone see this fervor of yours for their own eyes? Let them know that your inner flame doesn't only burn figuratively but visually before them."_

"_You are mad, Cinna." I whisper quietly, staring directly into his eyes. The intensity and intelligence within them terrifies me. How did my sister find this man? He could idolize anyone with his ideas one day and destroy them the next. Did he even realize the kind of power he held? "Brilliant but mad." I add, not knowing what else to say._

_Cinna smirks triumphantly at my words. "Exactly Nightlock." He responds, turning to the table next to him. He grabs one of those dreaded hairbrushes before looking back at me. "Let's get started."_

_Those words elicit terror within me while squeals can be heard from the other side of the door. His three assistants join us at this moment, excited expressions on their faces. Frog looks smug, Pinky intrigued, and Mouse happy at realizing I am willingly going along with their plans. What am I getting myself into? _

_A whirlwind of clothes, makeup, and hair tugging later, I am ready. Pinky and Mouse hug each other as they finish the final touches on my hair while Frog gloats in the corner over his hard work. Frog somehow manages to squirt me with water twice during the entire ordeal, eliciting laughs from his fellow assistants and shrieks of protest from me. I will get that frog man if it's the last thing I do._

_Cinna escorts me out of the sealed room away from my tormentors and through various corridors until I am sufficiently lost. We pass by several individuals I don't recognize until I am able to spot the familiar form of my arch nemesis, Effie Trinket. I plead silently that she will overlook me but luck is never on my side when it comes to this woman. She spots us almost immediately, an elated smile on her face among the bright colors of her outfit._

_Effie walks swiftly over to us, her colorful heels clicking on the floor. I cringe with each step, not looking forward to confronting the capitol woman after my strenuous afternoon. Her elaborate outfit invades my vision as she stops right in front of us. Effie somehow managed to pull off a purple floor length dress with gold and pink accents in various places. Her matching heels add height to her, making it easy for her to tower over my short stature. All she needs are feathers and the outfit would be complete._

"_Ms. Everdeen, my dear!" She cries, her elated expression making me think of a bird twittering happily after finding food. "Cinna, you outdid yourself! What is exactly the concept behind this?" Effie asks, a curious glimmer flooding into her eyes. Who knew that the peacock could form big words?_

"_Hello Ms. Trinket." Cinna replies, a secretive grin forming as he speaks. "An artist never reveals his secrets. I believe that the outfit will be able to speak for itself." His words imply a hidden meaning behind them in my opinion. I am pretty sure he just told Effie to go away. Go Cinna!_

_Effie pouts in an attempt to be cute at Cinna's words. She utterly fails at this, resembling a puckering fish more than anything else. Realizing that her cute attempt failed, a frown begins to mar her face. "Really Cinna. You don't have to be so secretive about it." She retorts hotly, apparently not liking that Cinna stopped her from getting her way._

_Cinna just continues grinning in response, laughter dancing in his eyes. "Ms. Trinket, don't worry. It will be well worth the wait." He states, appealing to her curious nature in an attempt to smooth over the exchange. If I didn't know any better, I would believe Cinna to be a spy with his ability to keep secrets. Then again, I hardly know Cinna at all._

_To my disappointment, Effie turns to focus her attention back on me. "Ms. Everdeen, let me get a good look at you." She probes, the candy sweet quality to her voice making me nervous. Effie being nice to me always leads to an unpleasant experience in my opinion. Ms. Trinket might beg to differ, which leads me back to my present situation…_

"Nightlock?"

I stare at my newly manicured fingers, wondering they would look like around her throat. Just the thought of slowly choking the life out of that peacock brings a sudden flash of joy to me followed by disgust. What is happening to me? The urge to kill Effie Trinket fades away as I try to fight off my revulsion at myself. Is the capitol already changing me into something I am not?

"Nightlock!" Katniss shouts, shocking me out of my inner musings. Worry for me is written all over my sister's face as my eyes meet her own. Grey challenges grey in a silent duel as I try my best to comfort her silently. Effie has no right to hear or see the intimate exchange between us. Whatever Katniss sees in my eyes reassures her as she smiles slightly at me.

"Hey Kit-Kat." I murmur quietly, a slight blush splattering my cheeks. My heart is beating erratically, palms sweaty as I realize that my nightmares are coming to life. I will be presented to Panem along with Peeta Mellark, forced to live up to my sister's legacy as the Girl on Fire. Katniss's presentation last year is one to remember, the flames encircling her in the black skin tight outfit empowering her. There is no way I can compete with that.

Katniss reaches out to touch my fake curls, the hairstyle that my stylists forced on me. She touches the red glitter in my hair, at least that is what Mouse told me it is called, chuckling. "You look beautiful, little fire." She whispers, a sad expression taking away the smile from earlier.

"Little fire?" I ask, wondering why she is calling me that now. I am not the Girl on Fire, only a poor imitation to the real thing. That is Kit-Kat's role. She embodies that power with everything that she is. My sister, Katniss Everdeen, will forever be remembered as the Girl on Fire.

"You are my little fire, Lock. Cinna told me what he planned for you and Peeta." Katniss exclaims, worry mixing in with her sad expression. She looks thoughtful for a second, chewing on her bottom lip before continuing. "He told me that you called him mad." I roll my eyes at this, knowing I am about to get reprimanded for insulting him. "Don't give me that look, Nightlock. I am not yelling at you. Trust in Cinna. Although your fire will be different than mine, it will be just as amazing."

I nod my head in response, not able to come up with any sarcastic remarks. Cinna plans to light me on fire just like he did Katniss except it won't be as elaborate. He tells me that Portia, Peeta's head stylist, and he have an idea that will make our entrance memorable. I am almost afraid to see how Peeta reacted to this idea. He doesn't see me in that way and never will.

"You ready, Nightlock?" Cinna quietly asks next to me, scaring me still despite my over awareness of him. I whirl around on my heels, the tattered edges of my dress tangling around my legs. The solemn expression in his eyes reminds me that Cinna is on my side, not the capitol's. Katniss tells me to trust him and I will. I only hope that he knows what he is doing.

"As ready as I ever will be." I croak, my voice catching in my throat. Cinna gives me a supportive grin and secretive wink as he turns to talk to Portia, who just arrived. My eyes automatically search out Peeta, who is conversing in the corner with Haymitch. His red and black outfit with gold stitching compliments him well despite the strangeness of it. My matching red and gold outfit with black stitching mirrors his own, reflecting the unrealistic quality of the theme. What are Portia and Cinna thinking?

"Nightlock?"

My attention refocuses on Katniss, her hand resting on my uncovered shoulder. Her kind smile reserved only for private moments like this reassures me. "Yes Katniss?" I inquire, wondering if there is something else she needs to tell me. She just shakes her head in response and quickly pins something to the strap of my dress. I glance down to see what, gasping at I realize what it is. "Katniss, no!"

"Take it Nightlock. For luck." She whispers, sorrow glimmering in her grey eyes. She grasps my in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "It will protect you sister. I expect to get it back after the games when you win. You must win, Lock. No matter _who_ stands in your way. No matter what." Katniss stresses, the pleading tone in her words pulling at my heart strings. Tears threaten to fall as I nod my head, not possessing the words to express the love and gratitude I have for her actions.

Effie takes this moment to interrupt, her shrill voice shattering the moment between us. "It is time, Ms. Everdeen." She twitters happily, the preening bird in her coming out full force. How I hate this woman.

"Yes Ms. Trinket. " I respond automatically, not having the strength to fight the annoying capitol peacock. Allowing her to usher me over to the chariot, I smile nervously as Peeta's eyes meet mine. He looks tense, the gold in his outfit bringing out the lighter blonde highlights in his hair. His knuckles are gripping the edge of the chariot, turning them white with the strength of it. I reach up to touch his arm, causing him to flinch. "Peeta?"

He turns slowly to look at me, uneasiness reflecting in his blue eyes. "Hey Nightlock." He states, wavering confidence in the words. I feel horrible for him, wondering if he knew what he was getting himself into when he volunteered for Gale. No matter what happens between us, I will forever be grateful for what he did.

"You ok Peeta?" I whisper, not wanting Effie to interrupt us. That woman is more nosey than anyone else I have ever met. If she catches wind that I lied to her about my relationship with Peeta, she will never let it go. The preening peacock is such an annoying over-beautified bird.

Peeta nods his head as my hand rests on his arm, some of the tension leaving him automatically. "I will be, Nightlock. Just nervous about this whole _idea _of theirs." He whispers back, the unease leaving his face as that lopsided grin of his forms. I laugh in response despite my own nervousness, understanding him completely.

"At least it is only an act." I reply, a semi-confident smile spreading across my lips. Laughter glimmers in my grey eyes as I gaze up at my sister's Boy with the Bread, wondering if we can pull this off. I am a horrible actress, despite my feelings for him to be real. My wounded heart will have to stand the pain once more to accomplish my task and fulfill my promise to Mrs. Mellark.

A flash of hurt followed by relief reflects in his blue eyes before disappearing entirely. "Of course." He exclaims, that lopsided grin of his returning. "We have to convince them for this to work. Ready, my bird?" He jokes, causing me to cringe at the nickname. I know that it will probably stick if my prep team has anything to do with it.

"I guess-"

Effie interrupts us before I can finish my sentence, that chirping of hers grating my already frazzled nerves. "Alright you two. It is time. Make us proud!"

Peeta and I share a look as we are positioned by Cinna and Portia in the chariot. I am on the left with Peeta on the right, the roses that will trigger our flames in our right and left hands respectively. Cinna gives us one last secretive smile while Portia fights off her solemn expression with forced enthusiasm. Haymitch just grunts at us to "give them a show" while Katniss just smiles somberly behind. What a sorry bunch we make.

Swallowing my pride, I reach out to grasp Peeta's free hand with my own. He swiftly turns his head, surprise reflecting in his eyes. I just smile with fake confidence, raising our joined hands to indicate it is all part of the plan. He returns my smile, nodding his head in understanding. We both look out towards the opening curtains in front of us, ready to show Panem what we truly are.

We are the volunteering tributes of District 12, twin phoenixes rising from the flames, Peeta Mellark, Katniss's Boy with the Bread, and Nightlock Everdeen, younger sister of the Girl on Fire.


	18. The Penthouse

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games and anything from the novels is attributed to its author._

_What can I say? School got busy and has been consuming my time. Here is the next chapter. Please review to let me know what you think. It helps the chapters to come faster when I know I'm on the right track. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 18**

**The Penthouse**

"Good job, sweettart." Haymitch grumbles, giving me a thumb up against his better judgment. The annoyed gleam in his eyes reminds me of how I turned one of my mentors against me before the reaping. If I want the best chance to survive long enough to help Peeta win, I have to get Haymitch on my side. This might just be an impossible task.

The parade ends up being an overwhelming affair with the shouts and screams from the crowd drowning me in noise. Holding hands with Peeta set us apart, eliciting cries of adoration from the Capitol and glowers from our fellow tributes once the parade ends. Flaming wings erupting from our backs gain us looks of envy and the hearts of the capitol people. Our stylists' idea of presenting a united front, mirror reflections of each other, works out better than any of us expected, almost too well.

The glares from our fellow tributes as Peeta and I step off the chariot confirm my bitter suspicions. While the united front and fiery display helps us gain the Capitol's attention, it also took it away from the other tributes. I glance around the room, wincing each time a formidable glare is cast our way. One of the tributes catches my eye, the strength of his anger trapping me in his gaze. The male tribute from 2 does a cutting motion across his throat as he looks at me, the bloodlust reflecting within his eyes terrifying. Monster…

I look away quickly, trying desperately to calm my frantic heartbeat. How can they allow such monsters into the Games? The answer to this is easy, entertainment value. Who doesn't love a good slaughter of our districts' children, cheering enthusiastically for the death of the weak ones and sympathetically for the strong ones who will fight? The capitol does. The only way to find out where Peeta and I fit into this particular lot is through evaluations and scores. In order for sponsors to find out if we are strong enough to survive, we have to play the game by their rules. Damn bastards.

"You were wonderful Ms. Everdeen!" Effie exclaims, snapping me out of my morbid thoughts. I never thought I would be happy to see the peacock until this moment. Maybe Ms. Trinket has uses after all. Besides making my life a living hell for her personal enjoyment.

"Thank you Effie." I reply pleasantly, causing all the surrounding conversation from our companions to cease. Apparently my kind remark to the peacock is surprising enough to all parties. Am I really that mean to the capitol woman? Considering all the hell she has put my family, friends, and me through, it would be shocking to see me be friendly towards her. I should do stuff like this more often if I can get this kind of response.

"You alright there, Sweettart?" Haymitch prods a flicker of concern lacing in with his words. I must be hallucinating. Who would have thought that Haymitch cared about my wellbeing still? There is no reason he would even show a hint of worry for me after the way I treated him over the last few years. I deserve his scorn much to my chagrin.

A slight smile from me is his answer, causing curses to erupt from his lips as he turns to Katniss. They whisper frantically to each other, Haymitch's eyes darting around anxiously during the entire conversation. Katniss shakes her head, biting her bottom lip as she glances back at me. I groan in frustration, realizing that I must have done something to aggravate them.

Peeta places a hand on my shoulder, causing me to look up due to his tall frame. Blue eyes gleam with confusion, trying to understand what is going on with our mentors. I shrug my shoulders, grey eyes expressing my own mirroring confusion. We make quite the pair. Tributes lost in the aftermath of the situation, unable to understand what exactly we did wrong to aggravate our mentors. I know I am the one in trouble by default, Peeta guilty only by his association with me. This has always been the case, even with Kit-Kat and Prim.

Effie is oblivious to the entire situation, checking the itinerary while clucking quietly to herself. Her drawn eyebrows scrunch up as she frowns, her annoying clucking increasing in volume. Peeta suppresses a chuckle at my annoyed expression, knowing that my kindness towards the capitol peacock is quickly evaporating. How anyone can stand this woman in large doses is a mystery to me.

Not able to take her chicken noises anymore, I clear my throat loudly in agitation. Effie glances up from her clipboard, an air-headed smile lighting up her face. She waves her finger at me, a condescending tone taking over as she chirps. "Nightlock is there something in your throat?"

A blush splatters my cheeks as I fight the urge to correct her; knowing arguing with the woman is pointless. Her dull and slow processing of thought makes it impossible to use reason against her. Katniss once told me that Effie believes that if you press a coal hard enough, it will become a diamond. I couldn't stop laughing for a whole minute after she told me this. What kind of an idiot believes stuff like this? Effie Trinket, the capitol peacock, of course.

Peeta comes to my rescue, taking pity on my self-brought humiliation from Effie. "She is fine, Effie." He states, casting a wink in my direction. I groan quietly, wondering why I am glutton for punishment in front of Peeta. The capitol might as well kill me now.

Effie studies the both of us, suspicion creeping into her eyes as she clucks in agitation. "Well, we will be heading upstairs soon." She taps the clipboard, smiling knowingly. "Must keep to the schedule dearies."

Oh yes, the blasted schedule that Effie lives and breathes by. It would be horrible if she somehow _misplaces _it or it somehow _accidently _catches fire. I can imagine quite a few things I would love to do to that damn schedule. Too bad I will never get my hands on the horrible thing. For all I know, the peacock probably baths and sleeps with it.

"Sweettart stop plotting." Haymitch scolds, a smug smile forming at he reads my mind. How the heck did he even know? He must have gotten his answer from Katniss, since she is watching the proceedings with cool indifference. Do I even want to know what they have decided to do about me?

I roll my eyes, giving Haymitch the fiercest glare I can muster. "She started it." I mumble, shuffling my feet uneasily. The lack of concern from my sister is frightening me as Haymitch chuckles at my childish comeback. Smug drunken bastard.

"Now children play nicely." Peeta jokes, trying to ease the tension growing between Haymitch and myself. It works much to my surprise, Haymitch taking on a sterner demeanor. I search out Peeta, seeking the silent support that my sister refuses to give. Blue holds gray as the tension in my body eases, the patience and calm that Peeta naturally exudes working wonders on my frazzled nerves. With Peeta silently supporting me, I can handle anything Haymitch throws at me.

"As you two can guess, this is not the place to discuss our personal feelings." Haymitch states quietly, a serious tone to his words. Peeta and I nod our heads in response, waiting for him to continue. "This would be a good time for Ms. Trinket to lead us to our rooms. Isn't that right Effie?"

Effie almost preens herself in excitement, an overwhelming sense of importance taking over her features. If Haymitch wants to give her even more of a superiority complex, he has succeeded. She clucks as if to spite me, her bright white teeth gleaming as she speaks. "Yes, yes. Right this way." She motions us towards the elevators on the far side of the room.

Suppressing the recurring urge to strangle her once again, I follow the rest of our little group to the elevators. I elect to remain at Peeta's side much to his amusement, not wishing to confront Katniss about her abrupt change in behavior yet. Peeta surprises me by placing an arm around my waist casually, winking at me as we pass by the other tributes. Haymitch coughs behind us, making my back stiffen as I feel his eyes on me. Damn him to hell.

I shoot a quick glare behind me, hoping that he will understand my anger. Haymitch smirks at me, winking obnoxiously in my direction. My cheeks flush from embarrassment, the damn idiot once again getting one over me. There has to be a way to get back at him. Maybe a full night's rest will help me. I quickly turn back around, fighting to keep my eyes forward and ignore Haymitch behind me. Smug drunk.

We enter the elevators, the entire group fitting with ease. Since I am still refusing to leave his side, Peeta guides us to the back of the elevator. Katniss gives us an analyzing stare, as if to try to figure out what is going on between us. I give her a half-hearted smile, shrugging my shoulders in indifference. Nothing is going on between Peeta and me except support between tributes. It is not like the capitol will reprimand us for Peeta touching my waist.

"Well each district gets a floor." Effie chirps as the doors close, still jittery with excitement. She glances down at the schedule as the elevator moves, continuing to speak as she reads. "Since you guys are from District 12, you get the penthouse."

"Oh goody…" I mutter, rolling my eyes at her. Whatever a penthouse is, it can't be that amazing. The elevator dings as we reach our destination, the doors open to reveal an ostentatious and over-decorated room that I assume is the penthouse. My mouth drops as we exit the elevator, taking in the over the top design and look of the room.

Effie happily steps into the room, indicating to two people to come forward. She points to us, smiling conceitedly the entire time. "These two will show you to your rooms. You will find all the proper necessities waiting for you. If there is anything you need, just let them know and they will get them for you. Dinner is in an hour. Any questions?" She asks, giving us a look that there better be none.

I shake my head mirroring Peeta's motions, knowing I will have plenty of time to rile the peacock up during dinner. The girl steps forward, bowing her head slightly as she indicates with her hands to follow her. Sharing one last glance with Peeta, who winks at me in encouragement, I follow the girl towards the back of the room and down a long hallway. My eyes can't keep still, constantly analyzing the room and scanning every detail the penthouse has to offer.

The girl stops in front of a door, pressing a button that opens to reveal a bedroom that is decorated in the same style as the rest of the penthouse. She walks inside, motioning me to come in and take a look around. She stands off to the side, waiting quietly as I take in the bedroom that easily fit our old house from the Seam.

I gasp and turn to look at the girl, a question on my tongue. Seeing the exasperated look on her face, I bite back the question and smile sheepishly. "Thank you. I will let you know if I need anything." She nods in acknowledgment, quickly exiting through the open door. The door shuts behind her, leaving me alone for the first time in hours.

Collapsing on the bed comes easily, my body physically exhausted from the grueling torture from my stylist team and the excitement of the parade. I tug at the curls in my hair, wishing nothing more than to get rid of them. Mustering up my remaining strength, I stand and head to the bathroom. The sight that greets me makes me almost shriek with excitement. A fully functional shower and tub sit in the corner of the room, waiting for me to choose which to use. This makes the day's torture almost worth it.

Quickly stripping off the ridiculous outfit, I lay it on the bed to keep it from getting wrecked. Even if the dress is too over the top for me, Cinna must have spent hours making it and I would be a horrible person if I ruined it. I rip the ornaments out of my hair, biting back a cry of pain as one gets tangled in the curls. Working my nimble fingers quickly, I untangle it and toss it next to the others on the bed.

I elect to take a shower, studying the numerous buttons that weren't labeled. I hit two of them, hoping to get an idea of their function as pink colored water comes out with the scent of roses. My stomach churns as the familiar smell, memories of meeting President Snow rushing to the forefront of my mind. Fighting off the urge to vomit, I press two more buttons in hopes of getting rid of the rose smell.

A spicy smell comes out next, the water turning a darker red color in response to the new scent. I sniff the air, finding the new scent pleasant enough to keep as I step in under the water and wash out the product in my hair. A sigh escapes me as I feel my tense muscles ease, the water massaging my skin soothingly. This feels amazing.

After shampoo, conditioner, and almost falling asleep twice, I step out of the shower feeling clean and like myself for the first time all day. I towel myself off before wrapping the towel around me as I walk back into the other room. The clothes on the bed are gone along with the ornaments with a new outfit laid out for me. I bite my lip nervously, my eyes darting around looking for the intruder.

I take a deep breath before quickly changing into a rust colored dress that falls thankfully at my knees. With a quick trip back to the bathroom, my hair is held up messily with a clip, wet strands tickling my cheeks as I slick on some slippers the same color as the dress. Not wishing to even attempt to put on makeup, I glance at my appearance in the mirror. Good enough.

A knock at the door gains my attention, making me rush over to open it. Katniss is standing on the other side, a grim expression on her face. Katniss smiles slightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Mind if I come in?" She asks quietly, shaking me out of my stupor.

I shuffle back, allowing space for her to step into the room. She walks forward, the door shutting behind her as she turns around to look at me. I must have appeared confused as she licks her lips and addresses me for the first time all day. "We need to talk Lock."

"About what?" I mumble, sitting on the bed. What did I do now?

She turns away from me, refusing to look in my eyes. "I think the capitol is planning to get you to kill in the arena."

I laugh hollowly, surprising her with my callousness to her statement. "Of course they are, Kit-Kat. It is survival of the fittest." She shakes her head, grey eyes boring into mine as she speaks. The pain I see in them drains the color in my face as her next words stab me deep.

"They plan on making you kill Peeta."


	19. The Dinner Rumble

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games and anything from the novels is attributed to its author._

_I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Reviews do help the muses flow easier since I know people are enjoying what I write. So please review if you can. It really helps a lot!_

_I'm trying not to do such a long wait in between chapters but I have an exam almost every week and it is hard to find time to write. I also am a beta reader for two other stories on , which consume my time as well. For those of you, who have stuck with me from the beginning, thank you. Here is the next installment._

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter 19**

**The Dinner Rumble**

Dinner is a silent affair.

After Katniss drops the little bomb Haymitch discovered during the Chariot Parade, I am unable to form words or a distinguishable reaction. My body is numb, unable to process the words she utters to me after an already stressful day. How did the capitol plan to accomplish this? Unless they did a brain switch with me and another tribute, I will not be able to hurt Peeta even if he is moments away from killing me. It is impossible to turn off my feelings for him and to separate them from the oncoming games. It isn't physically possible for me to kill Peeta Mellark.

Before I can form a coherent sentence to ask how Haymitch discovered this little juicy tidbit of information, there is a loud and ear-shattering call from the peacock. "Dinnertime!" I wince at the painful noise, wondering if I will have working ears by the end of my time with Effie Trinket. At the rate she is going, I doubt it. Better go rescue Peeta before Effie gets her hands on him.

Katniss gives me a look that clearly means we will talk later as she exits the room before me. Taking a deep breath to help calm my racing heart, I plaster a fake smile on my face as I follow her. The dining area is easy to find, just down the hallway and to the right. The chaos that awaits us within is nothing and everything that I thought it might be.

This is the sight that greets us as we join the rest of our party at the dining table. Haymitch's earlier flattery seems to have given a new meaning to the word confidence for the peacock, if her strutting around the table is any indication. Haymtch is already wobbly on his feet, an empty glass leaving his lips as he slams it hard on the table. Effie makes an annoyed chirp, sneering distastefully at Haymitch's drunken antics. Haymitch makes a degrading insult in response, causing Effie to angrily go off on him. Peeta is caught in-between the two idiots, watching their entertaining display with mild amusement from his seat at the table. Maybe he doesn't need anyone to rescue him after all.

Katniss groans in frustration, shaking her head as she rushes forward to steal the alcohol cantor away from Haymitch and drag him away from Effie. He makes a grunt of protest, almost unable to form intelligent words to argue against her actions. I can't help but giggle at their immature antics, wondering if the two realized how much they acted like a daughter watching out for their drunken father. It delves up feelings of jealousy within me, which I immediately squash down before they are able to take root. I lost my chance at that type of relationship with Haymitch long ago.

Putting on a brave face, I enter the war zone that is supposed to be the dining area with hesitant steps. Peeta immediately spots me, motioning over with his hand to the safe side of the table. I quickly avoid the tug of war that is slowly becoming a wrestling match as I sit down in the unoccupied seat next to him. A sigh of relief escapes me, my frantic heartbeat bruising the inside of my ribcage as I try to get my body to calm down.

"So do you suppose Katniss can take them both on?" Peeta prods, laughter dancing in his blue eyes as he watches me. My still frantic heart beats faster much to my discomfort, causing my next few breaths to be painful and dizzying. Damn Peeta for being adorable.

I give him a contemplative look, pretending to give his question some thought. A mischievous smile forms as I cock my head to the side. "I don't know. Depends on how much alcohol Haymitch has had and how many brain cells of Effie's are working." I state impishly, unable to keep the playfulness out of my eyes.

Deep and throaty laughter escapes him, making me jump in alarm. He shakes his head, unable to keep the ear splitting smile off his face. "Remind me never to get on your bad side." He replies in a matter of fact tone, the characteristic grin of his taking hold. My breath catches as I realize how handsome he looks with such a careless and happy expression on his face. Damn it all to hell.

A deep blush floods my cheeks as I fight the urge to touch him. No matter what Peeta's feelings for me are, this playful and teasing interaction between us is too natural. For his sake and mine, I hope he only sees me as the adorable little sister he never had. There is no future for us. The very idea of a romance blossoming between us during the games makes me nauseous. The capitol would love to watch a romance blossom and then die as we are forced to fight one another for survival.

This dawning realization hits me with enough force to trap the air in my lungs. I gasp as if in pain, my hands trembling as the answer to my earlier question came to full light. This is what the capitol wants to happen between us. Our reactions from the reaping and my familial relations to Katniss sealed our fate. The capitol is able to see the same natural interactions between us that I picked up on and are desperate to use it against us. They will find a way to make me kill Peeta with my own hands despite my feelings for him. What am I going to do?

Peeta rests his hand on my shoulder, concern seen clearly on his face. "You alright Nightlock?" He prompts, his words laced with worry. I give him a faint smile in response, which causes Peeta to frown and turn his body to face me completely. His free hand moves anxiously through his hair, a troubled look coming over him. "Don't lie to me, Nightlock. If we want to survive in the arena, we have to learn to trust each other." Peeta exclaims, ignoring the ongoing drama erupting across the table from us.

I chew on my bottom lip nervously, wondering if I can reveal the private information Haymitch gleamed for us. Peeta deserves to know what the capitol is planning to make us do in the arena. He might even have a few ideas on how to address the problem. However, Peeta is unaware of my own personal plans for him. Would it be possible to discuss this with him without bringing up my own intentions? It is worth a shot.

"Later. Meet me later on the roof." I whisper quickly, not wanting anyone to notice the direction our conversation is heading. My grey eyes meet intrigued blue, a quirky grin forming as Peeta's concern for me melts away. I do my best to reassure him with a smile, knowing I must look like a deranged idiot at the moment.

A frown still mars Peeta's face as he nods in acknowledgement. "Later then. I will hold you to your promise." Peeta declares softly, his hand giving my shoulder a quick squeeze before dropping to his side. His muscles relax into a pleasant mask, attention now focused on the resulting chaos between our mentors and the capitol escort.

The smile drops from my lips the second he looks away. The frantic heart beating in my chest constricts my lungs, the dizzying feeling from before returning. Anger threatens to overtake me as I fight the urge to scream. Why can't anything ever be easy? One thing after another has me fighting to keep my head afloat and not drown in the misery that threatens to pull me under. I will truly be on my own in these games if I continue on my silent path towards my own destruction. Maybe this talk with Peeta later will be my salvation.

The verbal sparring match across the table has reached its peak and my last nerve. Katniss's cold glare towards Haymitch puts me on edge, her vice-like grip on his arm registering to him through the drunken anger. Effie's wig is lopsided, her painted cheeks flushed with anger as she continues to berate Haymitch. Why must such petty concerns from selfish individuals disrupt dinner for those who wish to enjoy one last night before we begin training on how to murder another tribute. Don't these idiots care about anyone else except themselves? I've had enough.

My hands ball into fists at my side, the anger in me simmering to a boil. Moving on my own volition, my seat is shoved back as I stand, toppling over in my fury. Slamming my hands forcefully down on the table, I shout loudly to gain their attention. "Enough!"

All eyes are redirected at me, expressions ranging from drunken outrage to shock as the room goes quiet. Effie's face flushes bright red in embarrassment, her hands fumbling to right the lopsided wig. Katniss studies my face calmly, concern flickering in her eyes at my sudden outburst. Haymitch directs a full drunken scowl at me, causing Peeta to shift anxiously at my side. At least I got their attention.

"Thank you." I state sarcastically, the anger from earlier bating a bit at their silence. Shifting half my weight into my hands and toes, I take the time to collect my thoughts before I go off on the idiots. "I was beginning to wonder if I would have to sit at the table with squabbling children with the way you three were acting." I retort spitefully, anger and disdain flickering in my grey eyes.

"Now Sweettart, who are you calling children?" Haymitch drunkenly ripostes, anger at my disrespect beginning to seep into his eyes. He grabs an empty glass on the table, holding it up at eye level as he continues to speak. "If you want us to act like children, Nightlock, then we will." He exclaims calmly before throwing the glass at the wall behind her.

It shatters upon contact, forcing Peeta to react in defense as he pulls me away from our seats. His hand grips my wrist, wrenching me into his arms and away from the flying shards of glass. Peeta directs a livid scowl towards Haymitch as he shouts. "What the hell is your problem Haymitch? Are you trying to kill her?"

A drunken laugh escapes him as he stares distastefully in our direction. ":If you must know Mr. Mellark, that little brat there has done nothing but make my job harder to keep you two alive. I am at my limit with her spoiled antics that her sister refuses to amend." Haymitch replies angrily, casting a quick glare in Katniss's direction.

The shock from Haymitch's actions disappears with his hateful words. Something inside me snaps as I lash out in response to his accusations. "A spoiled brat, am I?" I screech, fighting Peeta's hold on me as I reach out with my arms in an effort to strangle him. "This coming from a drunk who needs others to take care of him. What do you know about me? That I am just Katniss's, the Girl on Fire's, bratty little sister that has just gotten reaped. Do you have any idea the hell my family has gone through these past few years?" I cry angrily, wanting nothing more than to hurt him right now.

"Please enlighten me, sweettart."

"You really want to know? Then should I tell you of the horror of having to watch your older sister go through the games only to return a broken victor that takes every ounce of your strength and effort to hold her together. How about after losing our father the agonies of having to watch your younger sister slowly starve to death despite your best efforts to scrounge up food for her. Or maybe the struggle of maintaining your own sanity as everyone around you leaves you and your own mother abandons you. Which would you like to hear Haymitch?" I shout desperately, my most inner secrets escaping me before I can bite down on my tongue.

Peeta's hold on me tightens as I settle hateful eyes on Haymitch. Who is he to question me? He has no right to judge me after wallowing in his own self-pity for more years then I have been alive. Miserable drunk. I am so tired of defending myself to him. Why couldn't Haymitch just leave me be? "I may be a lot of things Haymitch but a spoiled brat I am not." I murmur quietly, all the fight leaving me with these words.

Dry sobs wrack my frame, the force of my confession liberating and draining at the same time. I become a heavy weight in Peeta's arms, no longer able to support myself. Between the stress of arriving at the capitol and emotional strain from the day's events, I am surprised it took me this long to have a breakdown. Leave it to Haymitch to be the one to set me off.

Peeta wraps his arms around me, cradling me against his chest. One hand strokes my hair while the other rubs my lower back in comforting circles. Peeta with his quiet strength is the only thing that is keeping me from running from the room crying. His voice reaches me in my emotionally drained state. "Everything is going to be alright."

His statement gives me the strength to look up despite trembling under the intensity of his stare. I lick my lips, throat parched from abuse as I try to find words to say. They are caught in my throat, refusing to listen as I plea with them to come. Tears sting my grey eyes for the first time all night, fighting against my iron clad control. I will not break down in front of all of them. Tears are weakness here in the capitol.

"You can talk to us little sister."

Little sister, the phrase I never wanted to hear leave his lips. My heart shuts down, refusing to allow these words to penetrate. Numb floods through me, all emotion evaporating as my gaze drops to the floor. The dry sobs have stopped, my body too much in shock to move or even try to process that I should still be upset. "Thank you, Peeta." I whisper softly, the words sounding flat to my ears.

I refuse to look at him as my eyes seek out my sister across the table. The bitterness I see grates at me, trying to work its way around my numbness under her judging eyes. Giving her a regretful smile, I switch my gaze to Haymitch. Drowning pools of sorrow stare back, almost daring me to yell or insult him again after my little outburst. I bite my tongue, an apology no longer seeming adequate for the situation at hand. I sure know how to put my foot in my mouth.

Effie sensing the underlying tension in the room, attempts to create a distraction. "Well, it is time for dinner. Let's all sit down and enjoy a quiet meal together." She chirps, gesturing towards the table like nothing happened and tugging at Haymitch's arm. She receives a grunt of protest as she attempts to drag Haymitch over towards his seat.

Slowly I pull away from Peeta, still refusing to look him in the eye, as I take back my original seat. Katniss sits down across with me with Effie next to her. Haymitch is forced to sit at the head of the table much to his annoyance with an alcoholic drink in his hand. Not a word is exchanged between any of us as the food is served and we eat quietly amongst each other.

Peeta's eyes don't leave me the entire dinner. As I chew on a piece of meat that tastes like ash on my tongue, I can't help but want to escape back to my room. The image of being an animal on display for others to gawk at comes to mind under his irritating gaze. After everything that I've been through today, from playing dress up doll with Effie, suffering torture in the name of beauty, and presenting a strong front to the capitol, I am exhausted. Don't I deserve to be left alone to my own thoughts? Why am I even sitting here calmly eating at the table if no one is preventing me from leaving?

Without a word to any of my companions, I drop my fork in my plate and stand. My chair clatters to the floor behind me as everyone stares at my sudden abrupt movement. Not wishing to give them any indication of my intentions, I walk swiftly from the room before anyone can protest. I have had enough with this friendly charade known as dinner.


End file.
